#it’s put there to force you to endure this moment with them and question it beyond what’s there | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

meiieiri · 3 months

Text

water’s edge | 03

₊˚.༄ pairing: crown prince!gojo satoru x f!reader | setting: modern royal au

₊˚.༄ summary: in a world where titles define their fates, gojo satoru, the crown prince of japan, and his wife-to-be, face a tempestuous court of deception and schadenfreude. as they waltz on the edge of ruin, can their love endure the treacherous waters that threaten to pull them apart, or will the whims of the enigmatic chrysanthemum throne prove strong enough to drown them both?

₊˚.༄ author’s note: please don’t kill me omg this took too long. also, thank you to the warmest of messages, it really helped a lot. <33 i’ll see this through to the end. and thank you for sticking by me all this time. rbs are appreciated<3

₊˚.༄ warnings: physical harm/abuse, references to theft, adultery.

₊˚.༄ masterlist

He doesn’t want to wake up.

Not right now, when everything feels so real, so painfully tangible that he could make out her voice, her gentle breath, her plumose touch grazing his flesh as she leans in. “Satoru?” The woman in his dream whispers his name, and light seems to burst forth from that sound alone. It’s her; she iswas here, Satoru could almost touch her if he searched hard enough. If he imagined her face with just a little more effort, maybe she’d become real and not a figment of his guilt-ridden imagination. “Satoru, wake up. We can’t stay.”

I’ve missed you, I’ve missed who I could be when I’m with you.

Suddenly, he is brought back to light-hearted days when he used to sit underneath the imperial palace’s cypress, his fingers absentmindedly flipping through a book he found in the imperial archives while the love of his life sits beside him. His orbs gaze up at the chemtrails that paint the canvas of the turquoise summer sky.

He doesn’t want this dream to end. Shaking his head, he refuses her request the same way he did back then.

How cruel could she be to ask him to leave her again? He’s left her once, he wasn’t about to do it again. He hasn’t even begged for her forgiveness yet and now, she was telling him to wake up from this fantasy world his troubled mind created and to confront reality.

Don’t make me go, he begs her. Weren’t they happy here being together after being forced apart by those around them? Why would she want to go another minute without him being by her side? Did she still resent him? Stupid question, Satoru thought bitterly. Of course she does, after everything he’s put her through-

Suddenly, the hand that was reaching for her falls slack against his side. He doesn’t deserve her forgiveness, nor the very privilege of claiming to love her when every action he has ever committed said otherwise. Then, like a clock striking at midnight, the dream abruptly vanishes in a cloud of smoke.

Gojo’s eyes flutter open with a start.

“Shit,” he clutches his still asleep shoulder and sits up, looking at the empty room. How long has he been asleep? He looks at his watch — he’s an hour late — but he doesn’t really seem to care about the time. Immediately, he sends a quick text to Himiko asking where she is, only to receive a text with a picture attached of the cathedral. It seems she went ahead thinking it would only stir up more trouble if they arrived at the venue together.

Gojo’s mind wanders back to the dream before it is inevitably forgotten. Like a movie that he wants to watch over and over. He gazes at himself in the full body mirror with an empty gaze. All that is in his mind is to smash the reflective material into pieces, knowing that this is not the man his love wanted him to be: a prisoner in his own skin. When is all of this ever going to end? He huffs, slipping on his shoes and shrugging on his navy blue sash.

Not wanting to delay the inevitable any further, he turns on his heel to head to the cathedral reluctantly leaving the traces of his now corroding past behind for an even bleaker future with you as his wife.

“…Where’s Satoru?”

The entire nation is silent when only moments before, they were happily celebrating this supposedly joyful day. A reporter trains his video camera on you as you stand there motionless before an empty altar. Pretty soon, other members of the media who would get a huge scoop out of this travesty follow in his example as if you haven’t been humiliated enough by your groom who couldn’t even bother to show up at your wedding.

The empress who is seated right of the altar shoots you an apologetic look; she didn’t realize that Satoru could stoop this low. This wasn’t anything less of a transactional marriage and you thought that the prize that Satoru was promised he would get for marrying you would be enough for him to at least be civil with you. And here you thought that the earrings he gifted to you were a sign that things would eventually settle down.

Without warning, as the VIP guests start to chatter amongst themselves about how pitiful you looked, the woman you dreaded seeing bounds over to you, a solemn expression on her face. You would have believed that, despite the quiet rift between you and Chief-of-Staff Himiko Zenin, she felt a little sorry for you but her choice of wearing white on your wedding day says otherwise.

“Ms. (Y/N). I’m sorry there must have been a problem with the schedule, if you could follow me please—“ she begins to lead you to one of the cathedral’s private holding rooms before the grip on your hand tightens.

“—Suguru?” you looked at Suguru with a sad and confused expression. His heart clenches in his chest when he gets a good look of the damage Satoru dealt to you. He looks like he wants to throw something at the press for making a dogshow out of your agony — his hands are clenched into fists, his knuckles white — he takes a few deep calming breaths before he does anything rash.

At Himiko’s persistence, Suguru’s gaze hardens and he gently pulls you away from her as your feet remain planted firmly on the marble floor of the cathedral, leaving you frozen in place at Satoru’s betrayal. He hopes what he’s thinking isn’t true, but that’s proving to be a challenge since he doesn’t miss the hickey on Himiko’s neck which had been conveniently hidden by her long brown hair. Maybe she had a part in all this mess? She and Satoru had a history together after all and judging by the way you looked at her with apprehension — he doesn’t want to consider it — but perhaps you already knew that.

You are blinded by a camera’s flash and Suguru springs into action. Turning to the nearest guest, he politely asks, “Excuse me? May I borrow your suit for a second?” When the guest agrees, he shields your face with the Zegna suit to conceal you from the hounding eyes of the press who must be having the time of their lives right about now. Just one picture of the Crown Prince’s crying bride could sell for a good buck but not on his watch.

Not on his fucking watch.

Suguru looks at his father, and then his stepmother, and he couldn’t bring himself to be surprised to see them frozen in their places unable to do anything, much less act like they care. Their priority was to look good in front of all these cameras that were terrorizing you, not to comfort their future daughter-in-law. “Hey, it’ll be okay,” Suguru begins to urgently lead the two of you back to the car, his arm protectively around you while you hold the suit over your head.

“Will it?” You probably sounded like a child, begging for reassurance that all this was some sick dream but at that moment, it didn’t matter. You need someone - anyone - to tell you that everything will be alright. The question makes Suguru’s heart sink. In all honesty, he doesn’t know, but he didn’t need to make you feel even worse if he spoke the truth. So, he nods, choosing to lie to spare you from even more pain because he couldn’t count on anyone in this goddamn cathedral to do the same. He’ll have to talk to Satoru later on, this is a bad start to any marriage - no, bad would be an understatement, this is a catastrophic omen of what’s to come.

Pretty soon, Suguru requests that the roof of the car be reinstalled to hide your desolate expression. “Put it back up, please. The princess must be protected!” In his panic, he accidentally refers to you as a princess even before you are formally crowned Princess of Japan. The imperial household agents quickly get to work and pretty soon, Suguru helps you back into the car, putting up the tinted windows.

You can’t feel a thing. You don’t even know if you should harshly laugh at your foolishness or cry now that you’ve just been humiliated in front of thousands of people all across the world. Shrugging off the suit over your head, Suguru is surprised to see that you weren’t crying. You simply sat there, blankly staring at the ring on your finger.

“(Y/N)? Come on, say something…” He’s desperately trying to get you to express the tiniest bit of emotion, somewhat unnerved by your silence.

Turning to look at him, you wonder if he had been surprised by his brother’s behavior today or if a part of him expected this to happen. “He hates me.” You were numb. “I don’t know if you already knew but—“

“—-It’s arranged, I know.” Suguru scoffs under his breath, almost in disbelief that he didn’t figure it out sooner when he first heard about your engagement. Just when he thought his family couldn’t stoop any lower than they already were, they just had to drag a naive girl into their royal messes. His father and stepmother always preached about modernizing the monarchy but, their archaic ways such as actively banishing a woman of the imperial family should they marry a commoner and having some sort of proclivity for disastrous matchmaking through arranged marriages only say otherwise. “Fuck,” he buries his face in his hand, the thought of this predicament was making his head hurt.

You remove the tiara from your head, somehow feeling that a weight has been lifted when you do so. In a span of mere seconds, Suguru now appears exhausted. “I thought he’d at least wait until after the wedding to ignore me for good,” you muttered sadly. “That was fine, you know, him acting like I don’t exist; I know I never stood a chance…against her.”

You recall the way Gojo’s lips locked with Himiko’s in a searing kiss, and the way your heart seemed to disintegrate in your chest as you drove off that day, your eyes on the rearview mirror, heartbrokenly watching the both of them as you convinced yourself that you had no right to feel bad. And that is precisely what makes this situation so difficult; you feel like Satoru is cheating on you when in fact, he isn’t because he never once told you he loved you. You should be angry, furious, crestfallen at your fiancé’s betrayal, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“Himiko,” Suguru nods in understanding.

He knows her well, and while he doesn’t exactly have any hard feelings towards her, he acknowledges that having her around in the imperial family is a misstep on Satoru’s part; he’s seen her many times before cajoling Satoru into ditching his royal duties for the two of them to spend time together, he has witnessed how she blatantly disrespects the emperor and the empress, he has also been made aware of the many lustrous gifts she has received out of his younger brother’s pocket.

“Yeah.” Your shoulders slump in defeat. “I never asked him to love me, I’m a lot of things but I’m not a thief.” You begin to shed tears as you try to convince yourself that you were perfectly fine with Satoru never loving you. You were so confused. Did you want him to love you? Are you now finding yourself craving for his ocean eyes to gloss over with an emotion other than hatred, an emotion similar to love?

Suguru watches you intently as these silent questions fly over your head. “You’d never ask him to love you but you love him…otherwise, why would you be on the verge of tears all the time whenever we talk about something remotely related to him if you didn’t?”

You swallowed harshly. “Is it so wrong though? To feel cheated on knowing we were never together in the first place?” You’ve been wondering about that since the day of the public announcement of your engagement and you’ve searched your heart for answers from the minute you wake up to the moment you fall asleep on your tear-stained pillow.

Suguru looks pensive for a moment, taking a deep breath before he speaks. “No, there’s nothing wrong with that. The heart wants what it wants, it’s pointless to even try to understand it.”

“But I don’t want my heart to want him.” You shook your head. You were going to be in for a world of hurt if you even entertained the idea of falling in love with Satoru Gojo. “He’ll never forgive me for it.”

A sad smile creeps up your face at the thought of Satoru admonishing you, one day, for saying you loved him even at his worst. Being in your early twenties, this was the age of recklessly falling in love, like a car speeding on an empty highway showing no signs of stopping, while you desperately look for the brakes.

A larger hand eventually finds its place above yours, his thumb gently rubs your knuckles that have turned white as you clenched them into fists to stop you from crying and making an even bigger fool of yourself.

“It’s not your fault. To be loved by another is a privilege most people overlook.”

You glance over at Himiko again, and then at yourself: you wore the dress but you weren’t the bride. You had the ring but not his affection. Feeling your gaze, Himiko looks at you for a brief moment and an exchange of sorts occurs between you and her: two women desperately envying one another. You had the vote of the people, yet, she had his heart. Almost in condolence, she offers you a curt nod before turning away.

“You are exactly the kind of girl he needs, (Y/N),” Suguru offers you his handkerchief to dry your tears with. “He’ll need you.”

“He’ll never want me.”

At exactly 2:35 in the afternoon, two hours and five minutes after you set foot at the chapel, Satoru arrives in a proxy vehicle, disguised as some foreign dignitary who arrived late. He steps out of the car behind yours and a collective sigh of relief washes over everyone. You craned your head back to see him dressed in the attire you first saw him in, a blank expression on his face as he was approached by his courtiers who instructed him on what to do.

Suguru looks in the direction of your gaze and he hurriedly steps out, squeezing your hand a final time as he does. A confused expression flashes over Satoru’s face when he sees Suguru step out of the bridal car. What was he doing there? According to the protocol sheet, wasn’t Ijichi supposed to be the one to accompany you today?

“Suguru,” Satoru greets his half-brother. “How’s she doing?” He suddenly asks about your well-being which causes Suguru to be taken aback for a second.

“She’s been crying but I think she’ll be fine now that you’re here,” Suguru informs him, looking back at the bridal car where you were. The older of the princes pulls the younger aside for a bit. “Where were you? She’s been waiting for more than an hour and—is that—?” He suddenly stops mid-lecture when he sees a bruise on the corner of Satoru’s bottom lip. Then, he recalls the hickey he saw on Himiko’s neck. “Satoru,” Suguru bites his lip to stop him from scolding Satoru.

What irks Suguru is that Satoru doesn’t even bother to hide it with the palm of his hand or even show a scintilla of regret. Did he really just fuck Himiko on the day of his wedding? “It was a farewell gift,” Satoru shrugs. “Besides, I’m here now, does it really matter?”

“Yes, it does,” Suguru pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’ve no idea the amount of trouble you caused (Y/N) today, how are you even going to begin to make it up to her?” Not like Satoru plans to make it up to you. In his eyes, you should be on your knees thanking him for showing up at all.

Satoru clears his throat, fidgeting with his left epaulet. “I did nothing wrong.” He believes every word he says. He did nothing wrong, he has nothing to make up for when it comes to you. He never betrayed you, there isn’t a relationship to ruin in the first place. “Himiko did nothing wrong to her and still, she’s suffering the consequences of my actions which shouldn’t be the case since, if I can remember correctly, if it weren’t for her intervention, if she hadn’t stepped in at the last second, you’d be visiting your own brother in jail.”

“Well, if you deserve it, I’ll even bring some snacks,” Suguru counters, earning a harsh warning glare from Satoru. He takes a second to steady himself before continuing. “Look, Satoru, what you did that night isn’t something that’s easily made up for like your little affair with Himiko.” Gojo scoffs in response to that. “You didn’t just hurt our family this time, or that man you brutalized, you hurt the entire nation. And you have to at least make some effort to clean up after yourself—“

“—By making my life a living hell without the woman I love? Forced instead to be with the likes of her? How is forcing the two of us to marry for some shitty publicity stunt any more evil than everything I’ve done in the past?” Isn’t that what they all thought of him?

“—She’s not doing anything evil, she did nothing to hurt you—“

“—She did everything to hurt me by forcing me into this marriage, ripping me from the future I dreamed of with Himiko, so you don’t dare make her out to be some saint because she isn’t.”

A hush descends on the two brothers: one who’s made it his life’s mission to despise you and one who’ll vouch for your integrity. The two stare each other down, wondering how it was possible they shared a father yet they couldn’t be more different. Perhaps, it’s the fact that Suguru was never the empress’s child, rather, he was born of a common woman – a reluctant homewrecker, which would explain, at least to Satoru, why he’s so protective of you. A whore’s son will defend a whore.

Geto doesn’t see you step out of the car, you must have heard the commotion outside the car when Satoru arrived. You blankly stare at Satoru for a good minute who seems to have just finished up a heated discussion with his brother. He looked angry, but why should that surprise you? Some of the imperial household staff encourage you to re-enter the car until the prince has made his way to the altar, but you couldn’t listen, you were simply at a loss for words.

He was here.

Almost three hours late, but he's finally here.

Satoru scowls when he sees you. He’s tried his best to be civil with you, but from what he’s heard from Suguru just now, you were clearly turning everyone against him. Sensing his anger, you tilt your head down for any crime you could have committed whether knowingly or unknowingly, but it seems more like the latter since he always finds something new to hate about you, an act that came so effortlessly to him.

“I don’t want to hear another word about (Y/N) from you.” Satoru turns his wrathful gaze to his brother who simply matches his death glare with a bored and disappointed look. Suguru lets out a tiny ‘tch’ at Satoru’s command, his hatred for you is an established fact, after all, and not just some rumor he’s heard from a jittery bride — the very sound of your name was like nails on a chalkboard to him.

Suguru couldn’t believe this. Satoru has been the one willfully hurting you ever since the two of you had that under-the-table arrangement with the empress yet, he had the sheer nerve to act like he was the one being wronged. While he understands his brother’s sentiments, you didn’t want any part in this in the first place, and whatever has driven you to this point of gambling your entire future on a man who doesn’t love you must be something that could persuade you to put up with this torture. “Is that a request or a command?” Suguru says flatly, the two men watching you get briefed by the floor director like some actress for a commercial shoot.

“A command from your emperor.”

“Fortunately, you’re not the emperor yet.”

Suguru promptly leaves to take his place beside you, nodding to Satoru to get moving and head to the altar already. You shakily take Suguru’s hand, waiting for the doors to open to restart the ceremony. “He looks angry.” You watch your groom storm to the back of the cathedral. Suguru wants to kick himself, the last thing you needed was Satoru to take out his anger on you once the two of you are alone.

“Sorry, I’m sure it’s just another one of his tantrums. He’ll cool down.” You sincerely hoped that was true. The last thing you need is Satoru getting even with you by suddenly walking up to Himiko and obscenely reciting his vows to her, though you were unaware that the two of them had indeed made a vow to continue loving one another earlier today whilst you were being publicly humiliated by domestic and international media for your failure of a wedding day.

You watch as Himiko scurries to the back of the cathedral as well, and you feel bile rise in your throat at the mere thought of what they could be doing behind closed doors. “Don’t even think about it, (Y/N). Don’t,” Suguru says firmly. “Just keep your eyes forward, and concentrate on taking one step at a time.”

“I can’t. I just can’t.” You can’t shake them out of your head no matter how hard you try. “The more I try to forget about them, the more I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Think of something else,” Suguru suggests. “Anything else.”

The last thing you need right now is imagining Himiko and Satoru obscenely murmuring whispers of love to one another, assuming that that’s the worst they could do. But from what Satoru told him earlier, Suguru might need an anti-hypertensive, enraged at the thought of those two literally screwing one another while you were out here on the verge of an emotional breakdown waiting for a groom who can’t be bothered to show up on time.

“Five minutes ‘till the doors open. Everyone, please stand by now,” Ijichi peeks out of one of the cathedral’s entrances, eyeing you particularly, as the great double doors slowly creak open, again revealing the majestic interior of the cathedral. Ijichi holds up a hand, signaling you to wait for the Trumpet Voluntary to start playing. You hold your breath then at the sound of the first chord, you and Suguru begin to walk down the altar.

It’s a long way to the front but the sheer distance between you and him couldn’t dull Satoru’s inimitable contrarian beauty, a prose you simply can’t understand. “Don’t look anywhere else. Focus on the act, focus on what you can see,” Suguru reminds you but really you get what he’s trying to say. Don’t go looking for Himiko.

And the only person you can see right now is him, Satoru, the man you are falling for at such a dangerous acceleration that if you were in a car on the freeway, you’d crash and burn in a heap of scorched gasoline in your crazed attempt to outrun these shittyass feelings.

You gulp as you continue on. How is this taking forever? Step by step, you are racing to your own demise. You just know it. But the doors are closed behind you, forever separating you from your past, there is only him. A bitter future.

“Suguru,” The two of you reach the nave of the cathedral, and just a few meters away from the altar, you stop on cue and wait for Satoru to lead you up the steps, towards the altar where the Archbishop of Tokyo is standing. “Thank you for being there for me.”

“Well, it was either me or Ijichi.”

Satoru begins to descend down the steps and a look of annoyance passes through his features when he sees you and Suguru chuckling to one another like you’ve been friends for the longest time. But then again, he can’t really seem to complain, having you off his back because you’re all too busy being chummy with Suguru doesn’t seem to be too bad. Satoru casts a glance towards Himiko and then over to you.

“Let’s go.” Satoru takes your hand and you are surprised at how he doesn’t seem to have any intention to drag you towards the archbishop. Nodding, you follow your groom’s lead. The ceremony is foreign, no other imperial couple has ever been married in a Christian ceremony so, even Satoru, who has been born to know all the imperial customs, is left trailing off and even, stuttering at some points during the entire affair.

Eventually, the two of you tide miraculously through it and in just one hour, you aren’t (Y/N) (L/N) anymore, but instead, you are Princess (Y/N) Gojo, the wife of the crown prince. The usual kiss between the bride and the groom is omitted to preserve the usual custom for an imperial Shinto wedding. As the archbishop and the other key religious figures in Japan gather behind you and the prince, your maid of honor, Utahime, solemnly bows before you with your bouquet in her hands. You turn just a bit to greet her and something catches Satoru’s eye now that your veil was no longer obstructing your features.

It can’t be.

The Tokyo Philharmonic Orchestra begins to play the recessional and you and Satoru bow before the emperor and empress, traveling down the aisle, your hands interlocked. Somewhere halfway through to the cathedral doors, you feel Satoru gripping your hand a little more aggressively than usual. “Satoru?”

He’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Surely, you wouldn’t. How on earth did you find those earrings? Unless, someone had snuck into his room and nabbed it while he was asleep earlier. Something in Satoru tells him that you probably didn’t know and that you probably didn’t do it intentionally — stealing from him — but that doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re wearing it like it’s yours when clearly, it didn’t belong to you.

Satoru never thought he’d see it again, having kept it locked up in his drawer of memories past their due date to be completely forgotten. He never thought it would ever see the light of day again. But here they were, still in mint condition, reminding him of everything that has slipped through his fingers and everything he has destroyed thus far.

“Not here,” he hisses, glaring at you and that’s enough to get you to shut up.

Satoru has been indifferent up to this point, and sure, he may be seeing someone else but he is normally civil with you, with a few occasional snarky comments muttered under his breath, but he has made every effort to keep a handle on his emotions. Not once has he ever seemed as angry as he is now. But the scary thing is, you don’t even know what you’ve done other than wrench him away from Himiko and even that was unintentional on your part.

You make it to the car and he slides up the privacy shutter so the driver doesn’t hear a word. It’ll take a few minutes for the convoy to get moving en route back to the Asakusa Palace, the imperial palace that had been originally built to serve as the crown prince’s chief residence before it was turned into a state guesthouse by the National Diet.

Settling into the seat next to you, Satoru’s breaths are ragged trying to control himself from choking the life out of you. His voice comes out, a dangerous edge to it. “Where’d you get those?” He asks this question like one wrong move or syllable could cost you dearly.

“What—?” And as expected it does when you don’t reply quickly enough, not exactly knowing what he’s talking about.

With one swift movement, Gojo abruptly yanks off the earring off your right ear causing you to gasp in shock as it shatters in his grip. “I-I don’t know what you mean…!” you pleaded with him.

“You little thief,” Satoru stares down at the crushed earrings for a while before flinging it onto the car floor. “When did you steal this? Who did it for you?” He hits you with a fusillade of accusatory questions and you whimper in fear. Just like a kicked dog, Satoru rolls his eyes at you. “Answer me!”

“I didn’t steal them!” you protest your innocence. “Please, you have to believe me!”

Satoru punches the window of the car next to you, cutting off any more of your pleas, they’ll fall on deaf ears anyway. “Did you order one of the servants? Maybe Ijichi? Who stole this for you?” He asks again.

“N-no one I swear!” you inched away from him.

A huff escapes his lips when he realizes he isn’t getting anywhere with this and Gojo finally relents after what seemed like an eternity of him holding your head underwater. Your breath comes out in shaky huffs, utterly afraid. You look even uglier now with that expression, he rolls his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.” The monarch sneers at the horrified look on your face. “Like you don’t deserve any of this.”

You wanted to speak against that but he’s right. You should have known that every one of your actions wouldn’t go unpunished on Satoru’s watch when, as he unfailingly implies every time the two of you are within ten feet of each other, you’ve single-handedly ruined his and Himiko’s entire lives.

“You’re right.”

He feels a wave of annoyance at how pliant you sound, struggling to remain calm after lashing out on you like that. He looks over at you, his mind filled with a mixture of anger and just a tiny bit of remorse when he sees your pained expression. He’s aware that what he did was out of line, and while he normally gets into spats with others, he’s never one to lay a hand on a woman much less even think about doing something of that magnitude.

“You know, when you ran away that night when we met at that restaurant, you should have gone straight home.”

That way, you’d be spared from all this despair. He almost sounds regretful for what he did and what he will continue to do, but he really didn’t mind if he never knew your name in the first place.

“That would have made the most sense, yeah.” It’s quiet in the car despite the thundering cheers outside. Satoru looks pensieve, his lips pursed into a thin line. “But there weren’t any taxis that night and the empress is pretty agile for her age.”

“What did she say? Did she offer you money?” Satoru casts you a disgusted look.

You wonder if you should tell him. You doubt there’d be another chance for you to tell him the real reason you agreed to marry him. There won’t be another vulnerable moment like this, you just know it. Satoru deserved to know why you’d kill yourself over and over again in your ill-fated quest to love him, to accept him.

Somehow, you can’t help but feel you’re so dishonest compared to him, at least, Satoru had the decency to be casually cruel and brutally honest about Himiko to you, making no attempt to hide the plain fact that he doesn’t love you and he never will. But at the same time, you don’t want to make things even more difficult for him by burdening him with the truth, so you settle on maintaining your silence. He could believe whatever he wanted to believe, not that he’ll ever change his opinion of you.

“You’re not even gonna deny it?” Satoru sneers.

“Even if I do, you’ll never believe me.”

How could he? All you’ve done and all you will do from this point on is lie, lie, lie. Lie that you married him without accepting any personal favors from the empress, lie that you don’t deserve half of what’s happening to you right now, lie that you don’t feel physically sick when you see Himiko — the very woman you’ve trampled on, the woman closest to his heart — lie that everything will eventually turn out alright, lie that you’re not dying every second a hate-filled syllable falls from his lips, lie that you could ever stop this mad freeway chase of loving Satoru Gojo.

But the freeway is empty, your opponents long gone, the stoplight to doomsday is perpetually green, and all that’s left is a husband that wishes you were dead. You dejectedly take off the earrings’ pair and set it down on the seat in between the two of you, returning another thing you unwittingly stole from him.

Eventually, the convoy reaches Asakusa Palace and on the historic balcony of the 19th century Western-style palace, he takes your hand as the members of the imperial family wave to the crowd, thinking this day to be a hard-won triumph. Satoru meets your lips for the first time, you are left taken aback at the forced gesture, but there is warmth in that eternal split second that you felt his hot breath against yours, maybe some affection even.

But then again, you are known to be a delusional optimist who still believes her mother who has been in a coma for almost three years now will one day wake up.

Satoru pulls back his eyes that have been wide-open during the kiss scanning over your face and he sees nothing. Nothing at all worth loving. You were just simply you, and that in his eyes, is your biggest crime. You don’t show up to the wedding reception.

That same night, Satoru doesn’t show up to your room either. Instead, he sits in the dark of his office, staring at the earrings he recovered from you under the yellowish light of his desk lamp. His fingers brush over the ruined bejeweled earrings; no one will be able to use it now. Somehow, he feels he should apologize to you for scaring you like that. You should, he could almost hear her say.

He sighs deeply, looking over at his ashtray. Not bad, he expected he would finish an entire pack tonight, but he’s only made it to four before he started coughing. She never really liked his habit of smoking anyway.

The door to the study creaks open breaking the silence, but Satoru doesn’t look up, only one person would be brave enough to intrude in his office past dark. The crisp floral smell of top-shelf whiskey fills the air. “Got you something to drink.” Himiko sets down the glencairn on the desk, planting a kiss on Satoru’s lips which he surprisingly doesn’t return with equal devotion much to her dismay.

Her eyes then fell on the jewelry piece Satoru was holding. “Did someone else go into my room today?” That alone could explain how the highly-revered Golconda diamond earrings fell into your hands. It wouldn’t be hard to steal since the night before, whilst he was searching for a lousy wedding gift he could give you, he accidentally left the earrings outside its dedicated safe.

Himiko stiffens at the question, but she quickly recovers her composure. A hysterical woman like you could never hope to win Satoru over the same way she has. “I don’t know, I didn’t see someone on my way out,” Himiko shrugs.

“Did you at least see them still sitting on my nightstand on your way out?”

“I didn’t notice.”

Somehow, Satoru finds that a little difficult to believe but he knows she wouldn’t lie to him. “I saw (Y/N) wearing these earlier today.” He places the earrings back in their respective box, tucking it away, and making a mental note to chuck it in the safe later tonight before he goes to bed.

Himiko’s throat runs dry as she wracks her head for a response. “Oh?” She moves to sit on his lap, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. “I’m guessing you got pretty angry.”

“I did,” Satoru sighs. “But I just can’t wrap my head around one thing.”

“What’s that?” Himiko asks softly. Her heart was pounding in her chest. The last thing she needs is for her little plan to get Satoru to be angry with you on your wedding day to backfire. “Look, haven’t we already established that she’s a golddigger? Are you really that surprised she stole them?”

Satoru shrugs.

It doesn’t add up.

He understands that you might have shown interest in it, and maybe it did cross your mind to steal them, but how could you have known these pieces existed? It’s not like you ordered one of your ladies or retainers to specifically steal the Golconda earrings, it just didn’t make sense to him, even then, some of your retainers might not even be aware that such a thing existed especially since most of them have only been recruited by the Imperial Household Agency recently.

“Look, why don’t we just forget about it, hmm? We could sneak out and go for a drive somewhere. I’m sure (Y/N) won’t mind,” Himiko presses open-mouthed kisses up Satoru’s neck, her hand coming up to fondle him through his slacks. “Come on, you need some cheering up.”

“I’m not driving at this hour, we could stay here.”

Satoru’s eyes flutter close at the sensation, his hand gripping Himiko’s slender waist, allowing her to continue her ministrations. He did need some cheering up after today’s dismal affair. But at the same time, he can’t stop his thoughts from wandering away from how Himiko is unbuttoning his shirt. Damn it. Satoru can’t focus on her, it’s like his normally calculated mind descended into a valley of fog.

Himiko grimaces at Satoru’s lack of attention. She quickly stops her futile attempts at intimacy. “Just stop thinking about them. You got them back, didn’t you?” she says, a hint of frustration laced in her voice. “Besides, even if (Y/N) did steal them, it’s not like you’d have any use for them anymore.”

Something stirs within Satoru and before he could stop himself, a flash of anger appears on his usually calm and flirtatious demeanor when he’s with Himiko. “That’s not the point. You know very well what those earrings mean to me.”

He’s shared it with her before. She knows everything about him, more so than anyone who has ever known anyone else on an intimate level before. There exists a version of Gojo that only Himiko knows, and keeps like a sacred prayer. Which is exactly why Satoru is livid about her downplaying the importance of everything he keeps in his safe, his personal mausoleum of the warmest spring of his youth that he would have longed for still had it not been for Himiko.

Himiko, for once, allows herself to be vulnerable even if for just a bit. And a look of pure hurt takes over her lovestruck demeanor earlier. But that is instantly replaced with anger. Anger at Satoru for continuing to hold onto things that should have no meaning anymore because she’s here now. Loving him is a dangerous game, what else could she expect from a man who is caught between the past and the future?

“Forget it.” Satoru stands up, shrugging Himiko off his lap. “I’ll find out one way or another. You should go home.”

Himiko painfully picks up on the fact that Satoru told her to ‘go home’ and not ‘head to bed’, meaning she won’t be sleeping with him tonight. Satoru runs a hand through his mop of white hair, calling Ijichi. He knows it’s late but Ijichi should still be in the premises right now.

“Ijichi? I’m heading out.”

“What now? It’s two in the morning. You still have a ribbon-cutting ceremony to go to with the princess tomorrow.”

“Just get over here right now, I won’t take long.” He’ll still show up to that stupid ribbon-cutting at the Tokyo University of the Arts with you tomorrow. Speaking of you, he should probably refrain from doing such things again. He begins to think of ways he could, in a way, make it up to you for his behavior but that doesn’t mean you’re out of the frying pan just yet.

Just because he’s suspicious about these circumstances doesn’t mean that he believes your desperate plea earlier that you didn’t attempt to steal an integral part of his past. No one could replace the person whom those earrings first belonged to. Not even the woman standing in front of him right now, the object of his desires, the source of your pain.

“What? You’re going there again? Don’t tell me you’re still hoping she’ll answer for once.” Himiko’s nostrils flared in anger at the thought of Satoru leaving.

“Don’t push it, Himiko.” Satoru takes a dangerous step towards her which causes her to somehow, for the first time in her life since she met the prince, shrink in fear. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You’re already hurting me!”

What Satoru says next is like a bullet being fired through a thin sheet of glass.

“(Y/N) is enduring far worse than you and not once have I heard her complain or throw a tantrum like you’re doing now.”

Satoru leaves immediately after, ignoring Himiko’s angry cries. He comes back at about eight o’clock the next morning to see your newly framed wedding photo shattered on the floor next to a crumpled up picture of another person whose name Satoru couldn’t even speak without bursting into bitter tears midway.

How ironic it is to be married on the day he lost her.

water’s edge taglist: @dummyf @kentokaze @esthelily @mandysfanfics @userbananababes @strawberryjimin13 @snowprincesa1 @naturallyspontaneous @kooromin @gojoist @dcvilxswish @13-09-01 @peachipeachy @iluv-ace @sawendel @helloitsshitzulover @jjuniescuderia @ackermendick @starrylibras @timetobegone @heelariously @idktbhloley @jeon-blue @8aif9sgbsnn @purpleguk @rednezvous @yeseurri @floralsightings @yoheyyosup @dontwannacry04 @dragonladyy @darling006 @ethereally-lyann @nikitopia (still open!)

495 notes · View notes

wttcsms · 1 year

Text

for the last time ; simon “ghost” riley.

pairing simon “ghost” riley x f!reader word count 2k synopsis simon is greeted by an image that haunts him the most: you, completely still and no longer breathing. content contains death mentions, mentions of blood, slight angst, hurt/comfort, pregnancy, pregnant!reader, the two of you are married, obsessive!ghost notes takes place in the same timeline/au as this fic! ; title is inspired by miss taylor swift’s line in ‘anti-hero’ (stream midnights, btw) where it goes “i wake up screaming from dreaming one day i’ll watch as you’re leaving and life will lose all its meaning for the last time”, so do what you will with that information!

Is it possible to be so afraid that you can taste the fear on your tongue?

Simon Riley finds himself questioning this as he takes one step further into his home — your home, the empty residence that has never known warmth in between its walls until the first time you graced them with your presence — the foyer eerily quiet.

Usually, you have the TV playing in the background for company when he’s away. Maybe none of the shows airing were to your liking; that’s fine, he reasons. There’s no need to panic. No need for his heart to bang against its ribcage barrier, almost as if it’s trying to break free to search for you itself.

The house is dark, but after years of tactical operations held in worse places, his eyes easily adjust to take in these familiar surroundings. His eyes dart around the room, looking for any sign of trouble. He doesn’t know whether he should be relieved or not to find nothing out of the ordinary.

He moves quickly through the house, searching for any sign of you that he can. You’re not a quiet person — not when you’re in the comfort of your shared home, not when you know that you’re safe to live as freely as you want because Ghost will always see to it.

When he put that ring on your finger, he had promised to always keep you safe. Even before it, you were always going to be under his protection, and ever the honorable soldier (and lovesick fool), it’s a promise that he intends on keeping.

When he doesn’t hear the familiar sounds of you humming in the kitchen or the running water of your hot showers, he starts to feel the panic rising in his chest. It’s fine. You’re fine. He’s a rational thinker, quick and calm in a battle. He doesn’t lose his cool, never loses true sight of his mission.

He’ll find you, he reassures himself. He’ll find you, because to lose you is to lose himself, to lose the last remaining shred of humanity he has left in him. Burned, betrayed, abandoned — every moment of suffering he’s endured throughout his life has left him hardened and cold. Perhaps the universe is a merciful thing; after all, it gave him you. You, who only needs to give him a smile meant just for him to reverse all the pain he’s accumulated over the years.

He never thought he would be able to feel again. And now because of you, he’s feeling entirely too much.

He heads to the last room left: the bedroom.

He’ll find you there. You’ll be sleeping peacefully, tucked into the sheets that will cling with the scent of your body wash, blissfully unaware of your husband’s silly anxiety. Nothing could possibly happen to you — no one even knows you exist, save for the select few who Ghost finds himself able to trust.

He turns the knob, slowly and gently opening the door out of fear of interrupting your slumber, only to be greeted by the sight that haunts his every dream.

You’re lying on the bed, eyes shut, but there are thin, red rivulets running down your face — the face that he can perfectly envision in his mind, down to every eyelash and minuscule mark — and instead of the steady rise and fall of your chest…

…There is no movement.

The acidic feeling of bile rising up his dry throat burns, but he swallows it back down, ignoring the acrid taste in favor of forcing himself to approach your still body. He reaches out for you, noticing the erratic, shaky movements of his hands. When was the last time he had ever been so nervous, so scared, that his hands started to shake?

He doesn’t want to believe it. Your body is cold to the touch, and he finds himself daring to grip you tighter. He doesn’t want to leave a bruise, darling, he promises. He’ll apologize tenfold when you wake up. He shakes you, not as gently as he wants to, because he needs you to wake up. You have to wake up.

“Love?” His throat feels so choked up, he’s surprised he can even manage to speak. He shakes your body again, his knees almost buckling to the heavy weight of immense grief. Your blood stains the otherwise crisp, white sheets of the bed.

He’ll never sleep again if you don’t wake up.

He takes a hand to rest against your baby bump, desperate to feel the familiar kick of his son sensing his father’s presence.

“C’mon, kid.” He pleads and he begs, only to be met with nothing but silence.

He chooses to cradle your face instead, taking in your sweet features and trying desperately to pretend like he doesn’t see the blood spilling, ruining your otherwise perfect visage. The syllables in your name are broken up as he tries to say your name but finds himself struggling to speak properly.

Did you know that Simon rarely cries? Of course, you do — you know everything there is to know about him, down to every traumatic experience that has shaped him into the man he is today. You know that the last time Simon cried was because of his father, and it was very early in his childhood. Even as a baby, Simon was considered to be a very quiet child.

But now he feels the corners of his eyes watering, and he’s not ashamed of the tears — he’s ashamed of himself. You’re not breathing, your body’s gone cold, and he will never get to meet the boy fated to be his son. Is this why the universe had tried so fucking hard to keep him from making attachments? Had fate known that he was undeserving of having a family?

He couldn’t protect you, either of you.

The anger comes — he’ll track down whoever is the cause of this, and he will slaughter every single person involved, knowing that it’ll never be enough, even if the streets are permanently stained red from the amount of blood he’ll spill. But even those thoughts can’t chase away the agonizing grief that is crushing him from the inside out; it takes root inside of his heart, and he feels a part of himself snap.

Rage and agony blend together as the reality of his situation tears him apart. He will never love again; you’ve taken all of what he had to offer straight to the grave. Despite the persistent beating of it, he refuses to acknowledge having a heart, cold or otherwise. There’s nothing. There is no meaning to his life anymore if he cannot share it with you.

His pained screams seem to reverberate around the four walls of your bedroom, and his eyes are instantly open. He sits up, gasping for air, cold sweat dousing his body. He needs several seconds to calm down, and the erratic beating of his heart only quickens its pace when he realizes that all of it was merely a nightmare. But if it was only a bad dream, why does he turn his head only to find your side of the bed empty?

“[Name]?” He calls for you, throwing off the blanket from his body and leaving the warm bed. “[Name]?”

He sounds desperate and frightened — feelings he normally doesn’t display because he usually doesn’t experience them.

He’s gone about most of his adult life knowing that he doesn’t care about what happens to him, but now — now, he actually has something to live for, something to lose. He’s given up so many parts of himself, all for the sake of survival or for a mission. Whatever he hasn’t given away has been stolen from him (boyhood had always been a short-lived concept in his household; his father made sure of it). And then you came into his life — or rather, he infiltrated the building you were held captive in, and suddenly, the world had color again.

He didn’t ask you to fix him, and you never saw him as someone who needed it. You always tell him that he saved your life, even going so far as to call him your hero. You know everything about him; everything but the fact that you saved his life, too.

More accurately: you brought him back to life.

And now his life will go back to being nothing but static and self-sacrificial motivations.

He calls out your name in the darkness of the house, only to be greeted by the sound of his own heart beating against his chest. He stumbles through your home, only to find you rummaging through the kitchen, the light inside of it glowing against your skin and making you appear as an angel.

Breathing becomes significantly easier for him now.

It takes him little to no time to erase the distance between the two of you, and the familiar feeling of your husband’s strong arms wrapping around your body envelopes you. His embrace is comforting albeit a bit suffocating, and you choose to lean into his warmth, allowing him to bury his face into the mess of your hair.

The scent of your shampoo mixing with your own natural scent overwhelms him, and he only attempts to bring you impossibly closer to him.

“Simon?” The sound of your voice is his favorite thing to listen to; even more so when it’s you saying his name so sweetly and softly.

“Simon, what’s going on?” You don’t sound scared, but you take a hand to put over his, massaging his knuckles. It’s nearly one in the morning, and while you know that Simon is secretly clingy, especially when the two of you are sleeping, the way he’s hugging you… It’s almost as if he’s scared that you’ll evaporate the moment he’s not touching you.

“...You weren’t there.” You can feel the movement of his mouth and jaw, his head still very much buried in between the space between your neck and shoulder.

“I wasn’t… Oh.”

The turning point of your relationship had been the fact that Simon was always there every time you had nightmares. It wasn’t until the two of you moved in together that you realized he suffered from some of his own, as well. They’re few and far between nowadays, but sometimes, he’ll thrash in his sleep, tiny, pained groans waking you up from your slumber. You know the memories of watching his former teammates die in front of him haunt him in his subconscious when exhaustion leaves his mind defenseless. Those bad dreams have stopped coming for a long time.

He refuses to tell you about his new nightmare that’s been plaguing him, but either he’s an open book or you’ve just gotten too good at reading him because you think you have a sneaking suspicion as to what’s been scaring him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You whisper softly, and it should be impossible, but his hold on you only tightens up at your words of reassurance. “Nothing bad is going to happen to me.” You take his hand, and he allows you to adjust it to where it’s resting against the swell of your belly. “Nothing bad is going to happen to us.”

He refuses to go back to living that bleak, miserable existence that was his life before you. It’s okay to starve when you don’t know what you’re hungering for; it’s torture when you know you’ll never have what you truly need to survive.

“Let’s go back to bed, Simon. Please?” You plead with him, and after a minute, you feel him nod in agreement.

“You’ll be there when I wake up?” His words come out rough from having not spoken in several hours, but there’s something in his voice that reminds you that there are still remnants of that little, heartbroken boy Simon had to destroy in order to survive his childhood. Those fragments of himself are buried deep through layers of tough skin and pseudo-heartlessness, only coming out in his most vulnerable moments. So far, you’re the only person to witness it. If he has it his way, you’ll be the only one who does.

“I promise. I’ll always be there.”

True to your word, as long as he’s sleeping in the safety of the walls of your home, Simon Riley doesn’t have to find himself waking up alone ever again.

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #modern warfare 2 #cod x reader #angst #one shot #drabble #fluff #hurt/comfort

6K notes · View notes

blindmagdalena · 2 months

Note

I love the idea of you having a cat and she loves Homelander more than you. So she trots up to him, does belly flops next to his feet and always sits on him. You're like, "you TRAITOR!" and he is smug.

"Traitor," you accuse sullenly. There's nothing to be done about it, though. All you can do is watch your cat—your once loyal and beloved pet—purr and roll every which way, bumping between Homelander's boots.

Homelander's brows furrow, but he doesn't move. He's planted firmly on the couch watching the rolling animal. "What's wrong with it?"

You exhale an incredulous laugh. "What do you mean? She wants you to pet her."

His gaze flickers up to meet yours, those ocean eyes contemplative. There are times when Homelander is strange in ways that are difficult to articulate. He becomes lost in mundane moments that you take for granted.

Sometimes he's like an alien. A perfect approximation of a human assembled by an entity that knows of them only through film and the pop culture zeitgeist.

"Never pet a cat before?" You ask.

"No," he answers, surprising you. Oh.

"Well, just... stroke," you encourage, miming the gesture. "Head to tail, never backwards. Go with the fur."

He moves to do as instructed, but your cat startles at the touch and lets go a harmless hiss, sniffing at the leather of his gloves.

"Oh, what?" He asks the cat derisively, visibly offended by the unpleasant reaction. He always hates to learn he's done something wrong. "You instigated."

You stifle a laugh behind your hand. "You spooked her. Take off your glove."

A little reluctantly, he does as he's told, popping loose each finger of his glove before he slides it off, setting it to the side.

"Let her smell your hand first," you say, crossing your arms.

He shoots you a withering look, clearly unimpressed with the ritual of it all, given that he was the one initially accosted, but nevertheless he places his long, outstretched fingers in front of the cats face.

You watch, your jealousy dissolving in the wake of the revelation that this is his first time experiencing the favor of such a fickle little beast.

A few sniffs, and then your cat pushes into his finger, dragging her cheek down the length of it. He strokes down her back in turn, and the tentative mutter of her purr revs back up into a full on rumble.

Something shifts in him at her unspoken acceptance. The square line of his shoulders softens, as does his expression. He pets her a few times before letting her sniff again, the corner of his mouth twitching with the force she pushes her head up into his palm.

Another flop onto her back, belly wide open, paws primed. The trap is set.

"She wants you to rub her belly," you say, hiding the deviousness of your smile.

Homelander doesn't question it. He reaches out to ruffle the fur on her stomach, and her claws close on him with all the tenacity of a fuzzy little beartrap, snagging his hand with teeth and claws alike, her hind paws kicking wildly at his wrist.

His expression flattens. "You really are a traitor."

You laugh, closing the distance to sit next to him on the couch. Anyone else would have recoiled, but Homelander dispassionately endures your cats valiant efforts to mangle his invulnerable skin.

"Tis the season, I suppose," you say, leaning against him. "Happy Ides of March."

His lip twitches. No one appreciates a good Roman empire reference quite the way Homelander does. He untangles his fingers from her snare and scratches at her head, splaying his fingers when she ducks away, tail flicking, still purring ardently.

He leans back against the couch, putting his arm around you. You rest your head against his chest, and he turns to plant a kiss atop your head.

Your cat jumps up onto the couch, not content to be abandoned, and starts making her way onto Homelander's lap. She immediately makes herself at home, kneading into the soft padded thigh of his suit. His brows crease at the sound of her claws catching on the fabric, but he doesn't shoo her.

She settles on his lap for the first—but certainly not the last—time. He pets her from her head to the tip of her tail, the remaining bit of tension in him bleeding away as she purrs. Her persistent nuzzling even brings a faint easy smile to his lips.

You never thought that something as mundane as petting a cat would feel like a milestone, but in your time with Homelander, you've learned that he's missing an awful lot of those. Some more significant than others, but none that you would trade away.

Maybe sharing your cat's love isn't quite so bad.

#ask and you shall receive #darling anon #homelander x reader #homelander x you #my writing #x reader

165 notes · View notes

subskz · 3 months

Note

hii :) my first time ever sending an ask on here but what do you think skz safewording would be like?

hihi ^_^ welcome!

slight warning for mentions of crying and subdrop!

chan - usually, it’d take a lot for channie to reach the point of safewording. he can endure almost anything if it’s for you, and he hates the idea of disappointing you in any way, no matter how many times you tell him that you’d never be disappointed over him prioritizing his comfort. he can’t help but wanna put you first, so a lot of the time he’s genuinely fine as long as you are. however, channie is a naturally soft sub and really craves being taken care of. on days where he desperately needs that gentle dynamic, he might still agree to a rougher scene without question if that’s what you’re in the mood for, and he takes as much of it as he can for you even when he knows he’s not in the right headspace. you can tell right away when he’s out of it though, his reactions are delayed and his eyes have a far-off look to them, and not in a good way. you’d probably need to be the one to drag it out of him instead of him safewording himself, which always gets him a gentle scolding bc the last thing you want is for him to force himself. he feels immensely guilty for it and may even start to cry. not necessarily bc you hurt him, but bc he feels so vulnerable and frustrated w himself, like he ruined things for you. he tries to reassure you that he’s okay even as his tears spill over, he apologizes a lot and has a hard time facing you out of shame. but the moment you take him in your arms, he calms down instantly. he nuzzles into your neck and lets your sweet words reassure him, reminding him that he’s not just there to be of use to you. he’s extra extra clingy afterwards and would either want to continue w a softer scene, or if it’s a full subdrop, he just needs to be held and looked after by you, reminded that he’s safe. lots of kisses and cuddles and praises as you attend to any sore spots on his body, wash him up, and give him snacks and water. he basks in every bit of being babied by you, even if it makes him shy

what he needs most after: words of affirmation, to be babied/cared for

lino - he also rarely safewords—probably the least out of all the boys—but not exactly for the same reasons as chan. minho can already have some trouble w the vulnerability that subbing entails, so having to admit to you when the play gets too rough for him is a challenge. it makes him feel kinda weak and insecure, esp since a lot of the time, he’s the one who asked for it in the first place by bratting out so that you’d punish him. his reactions and body language would let you know when smth’s up with him before he actually communicates it. he’s less playful, less provocative, and he goes very silent. it’s not uncommon for him to go nonverbal when he’s deep in subspace, but in this case he stops making any noise in general, like he’s purposely holding back his voice. that subtle difference tells you that smth’s off. sometimes you have to prompt him a bit to see what’s wrong, other times his safeword quietly slips out. he also might prefer a safe gesture over a word so he doesn’t actually have to say it, it makes it more comfortable for him to express that he needs a break. he makes sure you know he’s okay, but doesn’t immediately fall into you for comfort. he’d need a few moments for himself, just to come back to his senses, process what he’s feeling, and become a little grounded again. afterwards, he still doesn’t say much and doesn’t really need words of affirmation, but he needs to feel close to you, he doesn’t even try to hide it. he nuzzles his face into you like a cat, rests his forehead on your shoulder humming softly, locks your fingers together/strokes your hand, and throws his leg over you to trap you close to him. a lot of the time he safewords bc he feels far away from you, like the sex had become cold or emotionless, so he just needs a reminder that he’s still loved by you

what he needs most after: to quietly sort out his thoughts, to feel close to you

binnie - most of the time when binnie’s safewording, it’s more of a physical reason than emotional. he’s got a bit of pride too, so initially he feels kinda embarrassed letting you know that smth hurts too much for him to continue or that he’s too overwhelmed to take it anymore. but his pain tolerance isn’t the best, so even if he wanted to he wouldn’t be able to hold it in for long before the word slips out. it’s usually very sudden, like one slap or stroke too much is the breaking point. in the case of degradation/humiliation, he’d say it a lot sooner bc that would be one of the quickest ways for him to feel uncomfortable w a scene if it goes too far. despite the way he squeaks out his safeword in a panic, binnie tries his best to be lighthearted abt it afterwards. he doesn’t want it to be a big deal, bc he knows that these things happen and the last thing he wants is to make you feel guilty for possibly hurting/upsetting him. he handles it so sweetly and maturely, maybe joking w you a lil bit too so that you know he’s okay, whining smth like “that hurt y’know~ i know i’m strong but i can’t help being weak for you~” and playing up his cuteness just to lift your spirits. though he tries to brush it off as nothing serious for your sake, that isn’t to say he doesn’t need comfort himself. if he reached the point of safewording, he’s in a fragile state of mind and he makes it no secret how much he wants to be looked after by you. he needs lots and lots of praise, he needs to hear that he did so well for you and how proud you are of him for enduring it. he’ll let you fuss over him w no complaints, enjoying every bit of being coddled and cared for, letting out the sweetest little hums and wiggling happily when you kiss his sore spots and rub soothing cream on his skin

what he needs most after: praise/affection, to be pampered and relax together

hyunjin - i think hyune is the type to like more intense play than most of the other boys (not all the time, he can very much be a soft sub too! but he’s also a huge masochist) so safewording might be a more common occurence for him bc there will inevitably be more instances where the scene gets too overwhelming for him, or he just isn’t in the right headspace for it. usually he’s the one begging you to go harder, to be meaner to him until he’s covered in marks and bruises and maybe even some degrading words written on his body. but he needs a lot of aftercare bc as much as he lives for being under your complete control like that, he can get very stuck in his head once the haze clears—overthinking and mentally degrading himself for being so gross and needy asking you to do all these things to him. sometimes those insecure thoughts surface in the middle of a scene, and sometimes the pain simply becomes too much for him to enjoy. his emotions show all over his face so more often than not, you can realize smth’s wrong before he even says anything, maybe even before he himself realizes it. he’d be very prone to crying after he safewords—whether out of relief, guilt, embarrassment, or just a need to let his emotions loose. he needs to he treated w a lot of care and gentleness. as rough as jinnie likes it, he still has a sensitive heart. he needs to feel safe and secure, all he really wants is for you to clean him up and hold him until he feels grounded again. but if he’s already feeling self-conscious abt asking so much of you, what he needs most of all is reassurance. lots of validation and words of comfort just so he can come back to his senses and stop convincing himself that he’s messed everything up or that you’re upset with him. he’s also very physically clingy!! if he doesn’t have any injuries/sore spots to attend to then everything else can wait in that moment, he just wants to cling to you and hear your murmur sweet words in his ear

what he needs most after: physical comfort, reassurance and communication

jisung - he is very vocal abt his needs and desires so communication is rarely an issue between you two! hannie’s eager reactions always let you know what he does and doesn’t like (and chances are, he likes most things lol) so it’s not a common occurence for him to get to the point of safewording. i think he’d be most likely to on days where he feels out of it, kinda like chan. maybe he thought he wanted you to be mean to him, to tie him up so that he can’t touch you, degrade him and rough him up bc he usually loves it. hearing you talk down to him, yanking at his hair, pushing his face into the mattress relieves his stress and excites him like nothing else, so he’s always a bit confused when he suddenly doesn’t feel right in the middle of it. hannie also has a lot of soft sub tendencies and loves being spoiled, so on days where he isn’t feeling his best, he thinks it’ll make him all better to just let you take control. but once the scene actually starts he realizes midway that what he really needs is to be taken care of gently. the moment you say smth that’s a lil to cruel or make his skin sting a lil too much, he safewords. he doesn’t understand why he feels so sensitive out of nowhere and that just upsets him more, he’d often cry after safewording like chan and hyunjin bc he feels so overwhelmed and weirdly guilty/ashamed, like he’s disappointed you. all it takes is the sight of your worried face as you ask him what’s wrong, and he bursts into tears. he falls into a very vulnerable headspace and needs a lot of comfort from you during aftercare, both physical and verbal. he asks a lot of questions to make sure everything’s okay like “i’m still your good boy, right? you’re not sad, right?” he becomes even clingier than usual, you physically cannot peel him off of you and no amount of kisses is enough for him!

what he needs most after: words of praise/reassurance, to be babied

felix - i think lixie is a very flexible sub who either wants it very soft or very rough depending on his mood. he’s very experimental and always curious to explore new things, so most of the time he’s the one asking you to try out harder or more unconventional kinks. even when you’re doing a rough scene or when ur nervous abt trying out smth new, he keeps a sweet air of playfulness that makes you both feel comfortable. he doesn’t safeword often, but when you’re experimenting there will inevitably be times where smth doesn’t go as planned. he takes a moment or two to process his thoughts before saying it, esp when he’s deep in subspace and thinking doesn’t come as easy—he’s very dependent on you. sometimes, you have to be the one to make the decision if you notice smth’s off w him. he rasps out his safeword very suddenly and, if he’s not restrained, reaches out for you like a reflex to hold on to you. lix is another one of the boys who’d likely start to cry afterwards, almost the instant he says it tears well up in his eyes. it’s usually bc he’s overwhelmed, but he also can’t help but beat himself up inside for asking so much of you, then changing his mind once you try it. he clings to you immediately and apologizes a lot, sweet angel would try telling you he’s okay even w tears streaming down his face. comforting him might make him cry even more bc he realizes how safe and loved he is w you, and that just makes him more emotional. though he cries a lot, it’s a very cathartic release and he’s usually back to his bright, sunny self after you hold him for a while, shower him in affection, and wash up together. he’d like doing smth fun afterwards like playing video games or cooking/baking to feel more like himself again

what he needs most after: physical affection, to spend time with you

seungmin - he’s another one of the boys who doesn’t safeword often, bc seungmo is very aware his boundaries from the get-go. he’s diligent enough to anticipate what he would and wouldn’t be okay with, and makes sure to be clear abt it. that being said, you can’t always predict everything that’ll happen during sex, so there may be rare occasions where smth goes too far. he’s calm abt it for the most part. it’s very matter-of-fact and he doesn’t treat it as a big deal, just utters the word quietly so you can know he needs to stop (he may also prefer a safe gesture like lino) sweetheart seungmo made sure to learn all abt the right affirmations to say to you in a situation like this, bc he knows it can make you feel just as bad or guilty as him if a scene goes wrong. even when he’s a bit dazed and disoriented himself, he still takes your feelings into consideration. the first thing he does is tell you that he’s okay, he isn’t upset w you, and that he isn’t badly hurt. he might need a moment to compose himself and steady his mind, but he definitely still wants to be close w you afterwards. other than physical discomfort, his main reason for safewording is usually bc he feels distanced from you, esp if you were hard domming him in way that felt detached. he can handle harder dynamics only as long as he feels that the love and care are still there. once he’s calmed down a bit, he’s a bit quiet bc he feels self-conscious abt what happened, even when it’s nobody’s fault. his go-to method of aftercare is to take a nice warm shower/bath together, and though it makes him shy, you notice him allowing you to coddle him more than he usually does. he softly murmurs that you don’t have to, but he still lets you fuss over him w no resistance as you wash his hair and body, leaning in to your touch and letting his eyes flutter shut blissfully. you can see him soften little by little as you clean him up, and he eventually lets loose enough to talk abt it properly in case there’s anything to change in the future

what he needs most after: domesticity, to feel cared for/cherished

jeongin - innie doesn’t have a lot of trouble actually saying his safeword, a lot of the time when you try new things out together he might impulsively say it in a moment of panic bc he’s nervous, then change his mind once he relaxes again. when he feels unsafe or uncomfortable w something, it slips out pretty quickly without him needing to think much abt it, like a reflex. the color system would probably work best w him so he can warn you with “yellow” instead of immediately jumping to his safeword to stop the scene, bc he gets a bit embarrassed once he realizes he just needed things to slow down a bit and not completely stop. though innie might have the least trouble setting that boundary out of all the boys, funnily enough, he tends to beat himself up over it the most, second only to chan. he’s curious abt trying new things, always itching for you to experiment new kinks w him, so when he starts to get cold feet abt smth that he asked you for, he feels very silly, ashamed, and frustrated w himself. he avoids your gaze after safewording and has a hard time answering your questions abt what’s wrong/what he needs from you, bc he feels so guilty for not being able to handle it, he doesn’t think he deserves your concern on top of that. innie always wants to impress you, especially if you’re more experienced than him, so he can’t help but take a childish approach to his mistakes. you can tell when he’s inwardly berating himself bc he gets very quiet, letting you fuss over him and hold him without any complaints, only ever really speaking up to apologize to you. it’s one of the few times he really seeks skinship from you, but what matters more to him than that is your spoken reassurances. he needs to know that he hasn’t disappointed you, and hearing you praise him for how well he did is a definite way to lift his spirits. focus on the positives, tell him how proud you are of him, and that you can always try again when he feels ready for it. the best aftercare for him is doing things to take his mind off of the embarrassment, like carrying on with your day once you’re both cleaned up and doing fun things together like playing video games, going shopping, or going out to eat until he feels like his normal self again

what he needs most after: praise, to distract himself and spend time with you

#ask #💌 skz

245 notes · View notes

milaisreading · 5 months

Text

Some words of encouragement

🌱🩷: Wrote this while taking a break from studying earlier today. Hope u like it :3

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. No other warnings need tbh. Plays out in the Manager!Yn AU. Requests are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️

The day everyone at Blue Lock has been waiting for had finally arrived. The famous Blue Lock vs Japan U-20 was finally about to happen. It was quite a big event. Not only in Japan did it get attention, but internationally, too. (Y/n) sweatdropped as Anri and Ego forced her to sit next to the president of the JFA, who looked pretty much out of place when answering different questions.

'Does this man even know what a striker is?' (Y/n) thought, quietly looking around. Hoping this pre-game press conference will end soon.

'Did I bring enough water bottles? Does everyone have extra towels? Wait, did Gagamaru bring his uniform even?!' She felt anxiety rise in her stomach as she thought of everything that could go wrong. They only had this one chance. If they lose now, their dreams will be over.

"And I am confident in team Japan's abilities to defeat the Blue Lock team today. With all the respect I have for Teieri and Ego, their team isn't up on our level." The words caused (Y/n) to look back at the old man, her anxiety slowly fading as she fought back a scowl. Next to her, Anri had a similar expression as Ego kept his face neutral.

"What makes you say that, Buratsuta-san?"

"Well, out boys are pro-players for a reason. Blue Lock is just a child's dream of what football is."

'A child's dream?! Blue Lock?! That place is hell on earth. Half of those players would not survive a day there!' (Y/n) clenched her fists as her eye twitched, but it went unnoticed by the adults. She looked back at the cameras filming them. (Y/n) got reminded that the whole World was watching them, including the boys who were in the locker room.

"Today dreams will definitely be crushed." Teh older man ended his boasting and (Y/n) felt her cheeks flare up in anger. She wasn't going to let this slide.

'Nobody will put them down. Not on my watch.'

As Anri was about to take the microphone away from Buratsuta to talk to the interviewers, (Y/n) quickly took it, getting up from her seat.

"(Y/n)?" Anri raised an eyebrow, the girl's glare melting as she looked at her and Ego.

"I am sorry, Teieri-san, but can I say something? I won't take too much of your time." She said, looking between the two and the reporters. The said people quite surprised by the girl's action. Ego and Anri looked at each other for a moment, then slowly nodded their heads.

"Sure."

"I give you 5 minutes."

Smiling softly, (Y/n) nodded her head and turned to look at the reporters. Her heart beating crazy, her mind telling her she was stupid for this, but she couldn't keep her mouth shut. The least she could do for the guys is protect their efforts.

"Japan... Japan was never known as being this big football country like Argentina, Brazil, France, or Germany. Before entering this project, I didn't believe we had one, let alone a whole team of players who had the talent, the endurance, and the sheer will to play and play until they are the number 1 player. But I am glad I was proven wrong." (Y/n) smiled at one of the cameras, grabbing tightly onto the microphone.

"Blue Lock is a team that is a force to be reckoned with. They won't go down without q fight and they are not scared of anyone. The match with Japan's team will be finished quite quickly with a clear winner. The Blue Lock team. The players in that team are the ones who will bring Japan the highly anticipated World Cup." (Y/n) finally finished, feeling 10 times lighter after.

"And what makes you think that Blue Lock will be the ones to win this match? And the World Cup?" A man asked.

"Easy. Because they are the best players our country has to offer. And they will be the best ones in the World."

(Y/n) answered without hesitation, handingvthe microphone to Anri as she sat down.

'I believe in you guys.' She thought, looking directly at the camera from before.

'Crap... this is being aired internationally, too..' (Y/n)'s cheeks turned red in embarrassment now.

'Oh, whatever. I hope the guys aren't embarrassed by what I said.'

And the boys definitely did hear everything, but they definitely weren't embarrassed.

"Hah! Did you hear that?! She thinks I am the best!" Karasu exclaimed proudly while pointing at the TV. Kurona kept quiet as he blushed more, (Y/n)'s words repeating over and over in his head.

'She trust us so much.' His heartbeat quickened a little.

"It's not just you, gel head. She said this about everyone." Rin rolled his eyes, but it was obvious that he was as affected by her words as the rest.

"It's clear that she had mostly me in mind when she said that." Karasu said with a smug look, earning him disapproving looks from Yukimiya and Barou.

"(Y/n) clearly meant all of us, idiot... but mostly me."

"And why you, Barou?" Yukimiya challenged.

"Because I am the king here, and she knows me longer than you guys."

"If that's the criteria, then I count in that, too. Besides, she always told me she admired how fast my reflexes are." Gagamaru announced as Chigiri and Bachira chimed in.

"Don't forget us! She was always impressed with my speed. I am sure she mostly dedicated this speech to me."

"Not so fast, princess. (Y/n) always said that my dribbling skills are out of this world. And she most probably meant me on the talented part of the speech." Bachira gave the two former Team Z members a cheeky smile.

"She knows me just as long as the rest of you guys." Niko cleared his throat, causing the rest to look at him.

"And she would say stuff similar to this to me. So that speech was definitely dedicated to me."

"Hold it! Out of everyone in Building 5 I was the best one. The one who stood out the most. It's only logical that she meant me." Nagi added in, now more awake than ever.

"I am sure she meant me. After all, I was the best one in my building. And (Y/n) always liked my game play skills." Hiori smiled menacingly at the rest.

"Maybe she really did mean the whole team... it's very sweet of her. She is a great manager. Her words made me less anxious too." Tokimitsu smiled softly at the TV as Ego talked about something. Aryu and Otoya sighed in delight, nodding along with Tokimitsu.

"Such a fabulous manager. We are so lucky to have (Y/n)." Aryu smiled, just happy about the compliments she was giving them.

"Ha~ an angel! I will make sure to do a better job on the field than usually." Otoya giggled.

"Wait, guys. Calm down." Reo suddenly spoke up, causing the arguing group to look at him and Isagi, who had serious expressions on their faces.

"What?" Barou raised an eyebrow.

"Regardless of who (Y/n) was talking about, we need to stay focused. (Y/n) basically declared to the whole world that we would win." Isagi continued, causing the rest to look at each other.

"And?" Rin raised an eyebrow.

"We can't let her down. (Y/n) has a lot of trust in us to say all that. We need to stay focused on winning." Reo continued.

"And, when we win, we will get even more praises from her." Isagi finished. The last part pretty much sealed the deal for the team.

"Alright then!"

"We are so winning this!"

"You used your lukewarm brains for once."

"Let's win this thing as soon as possible!"

"It seems like they are as motivated as always." Anri giggled as she, (Y/n), and Ego stood outside of the locker room, listening to the team.

"Nothing less to be expected from them" (Y/n) smiled softly as Ego nodded in agreement.

265 notes · View notes

cool-fancier · 5 months

Text

Rhythms of Triumph

Synopsis: Your passion for dance led to JustJerk, where Bada's friendship turned to love, uniting Bebe and triumph.

Your path into the world of dance began with an enduring passion that you had developed since early childhood. As a young dancer, you found comfort and expression in the art form, dedicating countless hours to perfecting your craft. Due to your talent and dedication, you were invited to join the renowned dance academy JustJerk, where you refined your abilities and made valuable relationships.

You first encountered Bada, a lively and gifted dancer, during one of the tough training sessions at JustJerk. Her aura emanated confidence, and her moves demonstrated her skill. You adored her from afar, captivated to her effortless grace and devotion to her work.

One day, fate intervened, bringing the two of you closer together as you practised side by side. Bada was drawn in by the synchrony of your movements and decided to strike up a conversation.

"Your lines are incredible," Bada said, her eyes shining with genuine enthusiasm for your talent.

Your heart was filled with a mixture of surprise and thankfulness as you blushed at the unexpected praise. "Thank you! I've always loved your sense of style. You make it look so effortless."

You formed a bond based on mutual respect and a shared passion for dance. You spent hours together swapping tips and skills, ultimately building a connection that extended beyond the dance floor.

Your friendship with Bada became stronger over time. You were pulled to her charismatic personality and persistent commitment to dancing. It wasn't long until your feelings for her became stronger, converting your friendship into something more meaningful.

Bada approached you with a sparkle in her eyes one evening after a particularly exhilarating practise session. "I've been thinking," she began, her voice full of excitement. "I'm putting together a new crew called Bebe, and I'd love for you to be a part of it."

The invitation made your heart skip a beat. It was an honour beyond words to be asked to join a crew commanded by Bada. "Me? In Bebe?" You couldn't keep your excitement in check, a mix of disbelief and elation filling your senses.

Bada smiled as she nodded. "Absolutely. You're gifted, dedicated, and bring something special to the table. "I have faith in you."

It was an impossible offer to turn down. Joining Bebe was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to dance beside the person who had not only inspired but also captured your heart.

Bebe thrived under Bada's direction. The crew grew into a force of skill, passion, and solidarity. Your time with Bebe was filled with wonderful memories, rigorous training sessions, and a shared vision of the future achieving greatness in the world of dance.

The lines between friendship and romance began to blur as your bond with Bada grew stronger. It was a gentle realisation between the two of you that grew into an unsaid understanding. The electrifying chemistry and unspoken connection paved the way for them to admit their love and begin a relationship.

You'll never forget the moment Bada officially asked you to be her girlfriend. The dance studio was bathed in the warm glow of sunset on a peaceful evening. Bada took your hand in hers, her gaze filled with earnest vulnerability, amid the rhythmic beats and warmth of shared laughing.

"I've come to love and care for you deeply," Bada said, her voice tinted with passion. "You've brought me so much happiness and passion." Would you be my girlfriend?"

The question hung in the air, full of hope and love. You couldn't contain the joy that washed over you. You nodded, unable to find words as you clasped Bada in a strong hug, tears welling up in your eyes.

It was a watershed moment—a celebration of love and shared dreams that cemented your love for one other. Your relationship with Bada in dance and in love became the cornerstone of your journey with Bebe from that day forward, a monument to the strength of passion, devotion, and an unbreakable bond.

— — — — — — — —

The rhythm of the city resonated through the streets of Seoul, as Team Bebe prepared for the Street Woman Fighter finals in the dance studio. You, known for your perfectionist habits, immersed yourself in the routines, practising nonstop to ensure every step was flawless. It was a trait that had benefited Team Bebe's success but had also become a subject of concern for your girlfriend and team leader, Bada.

Team Bebe grew into a powerful force in the world of street dancing, the dynamics of your personal and professional lives became inextricably linked.

Your perfectionism was beneficial to the team, but as the finals approached, it evolved into a relentless quest that took its toll on your health. Bada, with her keen intuition and genuine concern, noticed the signs of fatigue during the intense rehearsals for the credit mission—the final piece of the competition.

"Babe, you've been pushing yourself so hard," Bada murmured as she watched you rehearse, her eyes filled with scorn and concern. "I get that you want it to be perfect, but you need to take care of yourself too."

You looked at her, a bead of sweat running down your forehead. "I understand, but we can't afford any mistakes." This is the finals, Bada. We have to be perfect."

Bada sighed, her worry growing. "I understand the pressure, but you're working too hard. We want you to be at your peak, both mentally and physically. There's a difference between pushing hard and pushing too hard."

In the days leading up to the finals, there was a tug of war between your need for perfection and Bada's insistence on striking a good balance. She tried to help by recommending breaks and tweaks to the practise schedule, but your perfectionist mindset was resistant to the changes.

"It's just a few more days, Bada. I can handle it," you reassured her, brushing off her concerns.

She looked at you with a mix of annoyance and compassion. "You know you're not invincible?" I don't want to see you burn out before we even hit the stage."

The finals day approached, and the strain grew. The credit mission, which was a critical component of the performance, loomed over Team Bebe. Bada watched you rehearse again, her concern growing with each bead of perspiration that gathered on your brow.

Bada took you aside after the rehearsal, her face stern. "Enough already. You need to take a break, even if just for a few minutes. I can see you're pushing yourself over your limits."

You groaned, tired yet unable to let go of the need of perfection. "Bada, this has to be perfect. I can't rest now."

She softened her demeanour as she stared into your eyes. "We're going to be amazing out there, but not if you're running on empty. Trust in the work we've put in and in each other. A well-rested you is what Team Bebe needs."

As the day progressed, Bada's comments remained in your head. Backstage, the suspense was strong, but when Team Bebe walked the stage for the finals, a rush of exhilaration replaced the tiredness. The routines flowed seamlessly, a testament to the countless hours of practice.

During the credit mission, however, the buildup of tiredness became obvious. Your moves, while precise, lacked energy and grace. Bada,knew you'd given it your all, and she couldn't help but worry about the cost.

As the routine came to an end, Team Bebe faced the judges and the crowd, the air thick with suspense. The cheers of the audience echoed throughout the auditorium, and Bada looked to you, her eyes filled with pride and concern.

"You did great out there," she continued, her voice full of praise and assurance. "But, darling, you have to look after yourself. Winning is fantastic, but not at the expense of your health."

You nodded, realising what had happened. Bada's worry was not a show of weakness, but rather of her genuine concern for you. In that moment, the perfectionist in you learnt an important lesson: the pursuit of excellence should not come at the expense of well-being.

A surge of excitement swept through the group as the judges announced Team Bebe as the Street Woman Fighter champions. Victory yells flooded the air as confetti showered down. In the midst of the celebration, Bada pulled you into a tight embrace.

You smiled, the weight of perfectionism lifting, replaced by heartfelt thanks for Bada's love and support. The victory was a success not only on the stage, but also over the inner struggles you had fought.

— — — — — — —

As the celebration at the after-party came to a close, the echoes of victory lingered in the air. You and Bada quietly slipped away from the thrilled chatter and congratulatory embraces, returning to the comfort of your house.

The surge of victory gave way to a sense of peacefulness, a beautiful calm that surrounded the two of you. The comfort of familiarity engulfed you as you entered your home—the familiar aroma, gentle lighting, and quiet ambiance welcomed you back.

You and Bada sat together in the cosy room, absorbing in the serenity that had followed the frantic intensity of the competition. The triumph had given you a sense of accomplishment, but it had also underlined the strength of your relationship.

With her typical affection, Bada wrapped her arms around you, drawing you in closer. "We did it," she said quietly, her voice full of pride and affection. "You were amazing out there."

You relaxed into her hug, a surge of thankfulness washing over you. "We did it together," you replied, your honesty reflecting the depth of your bond.

The moon's beautiful radiance cast lovely shadows over the area, creating an almost surreal atmosphere—a moment frozen in time, a serene sanctuary after the storm of the competition.

An incredible sense of closeness enveloped you and Bada in the stillness of your home, surrounded by the memories of the victory. The competition's victory had strengthened your bond—a bond created through dance, devotion, and everlasting support for one another.

Bada glanced to you as you sat there in the peaceful calm, her eyes filled with an unspoken compassion. "I'm so proud of you," she whispered, her voice a gentle melody that resonated within your heart.

Her words, filled with love and admiration, echoed the sentiments you held for her. You caressed her cheek with a sweet grin, the touch a tacit acknowledgment of the emotions that tied you together.

You and Bada sought peace in each other's company in the quiet of the night, surrounded by the brightness of your shared victory. It was a moment beyond words, a monument to the depth of your bond and the profound delight of sharing accomplishment.

And as the night became darker, you both embraced the silence, cherishing the serenity of the moment—a lovely, serene antidote to the rush of emotions and victories that had defined Street Woman Fighter's journey.

#bada lee x reader #swf2 #swf2 x reader #bada lee #street woman fighter 2 #bebe #bada lee fanfic #bada lee x oc #bada lee x y/n #bada lee imagines

188 notes · View notes

python333 · 8 months

Text

task force 141 reacting to [reader] telling them corny jokes during a mission — python333

— — — —

synopsis just as the title says, tf141 reacts to you telling them some corny dad jokes during a mission!

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign], bad jokes.

note ME AND MY 23 FOLLOWERS ARE STRAIGHT CHILLING RN. i love all of u. anyway gaz is in this one!! yippee!! i thought about ghost and his jokes in that one part of one of the cod games idk ive never played them i watch other people play it but you guys know what im talking about. i also just figured out that i should probably specify gender neutral reader for my fics?? so i'll start doing that! ANYWAY enjoy!! this is all fluff and has some classic tired parent & hyper toddler energy in the first part :}

JOHN “BRAVO SIX” PRICE

➥ insert exasperated sigh here.

➥ he will let you keep telling him jokes, however he will only respond to them with a simple, tired, “Uh huh. Good one. Very funny. Nice one.”

➥ tired dad energy.

➥ the first one you told was okay. he laughed at that one. the tenth one? please, god, just stop talking and put him out of his misery.

➥ he wonders how you know so many jokes, and then wonders if you got them all from ghost.

➥ if you did get them from ghost, trust that he will be telling the man himself all about how you constantly told him bad jokes over comms.

➥ if you just happen to know all of these, he won’t be surprised.

➥ he’ll put up with all of the jokes, for your sake, of course.

➥ the first time this happens, you’re both on a pretty insignificant mission compared to other ones you’ve done.

➥ you’re both talking over comms, just making sure you’re both okay.

➥ that’s when you started your attack.

—

“Captain?” You’d asked, listening as Price hummed in acknowledgment of you talking, “Wanna hear a joke?”

You could practically hear his hesitation, before he responded with a tentative, almost scared, “... Sure, [c/n].”

A delighted grin split across your face as you asked him, “How does dry skin affect you at work?”

He thought for a moment before asking, “How?”

“You don’t have any elbow grease to put into it.” You heard Price give a small chuckle, and decided to ask, “Wanna hear another one?”

Price’s second mistake of the evening, “Sure.”

“Where do boats go when they’re sick?” You asked, still keeping a lookout on your surroundings on your end while focusing on telling your Captain shitty jokes.

“Where?” Price asked.

“To the boat doc.” It took Price a moment, before he huffed out a small laugh and muttered just loud enough for you to hear, “Jesus, that’s terrible.”

Without warning, you tell him another one. He asks why, when, how, or what, whichever was appropriate for the joke you told, and slowly but surely his questioning tone became tired and exasperated. You don’t know why, but somehow his miserable tone made you even more motivated to tell him corny jokes.

“Do you just… memorize all of these?” Price asked in the middle of you telling a new joke, sounding almost astonished.

“Yes I do. Just for these missions, I do,” You answered confidently, smiling when Price sighed. You continued on with your joke, and even though Price didn’t respond verbally, you still told the punch line. You had repeated this for at least ten minutes, all of those minutes appallingly slow to Price, the poor man having to endure your bullshit for such a short yet such a long time. At the tenth minute, the only thing that stopped you from continuing was Gaz’s voice coming on over comms and interrupting you, telling everyone else on the mission that they could head back to the rendezvous point. Price, relieved at the interruption, gave a thankful sigh and you could hear him getting up from his spot before he muted himself.

You sighed as well, yours a direct opposite of Prices, full of disappointment, but you let it go. Besides, you’ll always have more opportunities to terrorize Price with your jokes on the ride back to base!

—

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

➥ he has the same reaction he had with ghost telling him corny jokes.

➥ he’ll call your jokes terrible, but will still laugh at them somehow.

➥ will 100% put up with your jokes, will laugh every time, even if his laughter slowly becomes more and more strained, he’ll laugh.

➥ tells you some jokes back, but after your 4th joke, he gives up and accepts his fate.

➥ he will suffer for your entertainment, guaranteed.

➥ he will be sure to remind you of how terrible your jokes are though!!

➥ he’s honestly impressed by how many jokes you’ve memorized.

➥ he’ll happily support you doing this to other people, no matter how much it damages his soul when you do it to him.

➥ the first time you do it to him, he starts getting deja vu from when ghost did it to him.

➥ “Oh, God, no’ ye too,” he’d groan playfully the moment you start telling him jokes, getting flashbacks.

➥ enjoys your jokes, even if he would do anything for you to shut up, he still enjoys them.

—

You and Soap were camping out in the same spot—atop a roof of a tall building that was just tall enough to give you a view of practically every other building in the area as well as the ground. It was cold up there, the air so cold that every time you’d exhaled, your breath turned to white condensation before fading into the clear sky.

It was fair to say that you and Soap were fairly bothered by the cold, so you really had no other option, you just had to start telling your jokes. How else could you warm the both of you up? Sure, it wouldn’t do anything physically, but mentally? It was sure to practically melt Soap’s brain.

“Soap?” Soap hummed and looked over at you, “Wanna hear a joke?”

Soap smiled, and decided to humor you, “Sure. Joke ‘way.”

“Why couldn’t the bike stand up by itself?” You asked, turning fully towards Soap. He didn’t bother to think before asking, “Why?”

“Because it was two-tired.” It took him a moment, but eventually he huffed out a small laugh and nodded.

“No’ bad,” He’d hummed, “Want me to say one?”

“Go ahead.”

“How did vikings communicate with one another?” Soap asked, turning fully towards you in turn.

“How?”

“By Norse code,” Soap had said with a grin on his face, clearly proud of the joke. You laughed quietly at it.

Without asking, you tell another joke. “Why did the bed wear a disguise?”

“Why?”

“It was undercover.”

Soap chuckled and turned back down to the ground, assuming you were done. But, oh boy, did he assume wrong. You told another one. He asked for the punchline. You delivered. You told another. He asked again. You delivered, again. Can you recall just how many jokes you told that fateful night? No. Does that make the memory any less funny to look back on? No.

Soap’s expression slowly turned to one of misery, his laughter becoming strained and slowly coming to a stop, the light in his eyes fading away as God himself seemed to appear behind you and reassure him that it would all be over soon. God, how he wished that were true.

Soon enough, you were both told over comms that you were able to safely make it back to the rendezvous point, and Soap couldn’t be happier.

He let you tell him more jokes during the walk over there, of course, and made sure to tell you how awful they were, but still endured them for your sake.

—

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

➥ it’s like he’s been preparing for this moment his whole life.

➥ he’ll put up with your jokes and will tell you a joke back every single time.

➥ at some point you guys will probably use a joke on each other that the other one told you.

➥ he actively enjoys the joke-telling.

➥ he probably tells the first joke and that’s what triggers you to tell him your own.

➥ he’s annoyed soap, gaz, price, and a few others with his jokes, yet you’re the first one to go back and forth with him.

➥ every time you tell him one he’ll make a mental note of it and remember it for annoying people on future missions.

➥ probably thinks some of the jokes are genuinely funny but still knows that it annoys people.

➥ if you tell him a corny joke related to ghosts, he’ll probably laugh more.

➥ i am aware that that is pretty corny in itself but look at the title man what did you expect.

➥ he’ll probably tell some jokes about your [c/n] to you back.

➥ he’ll know when you’re reusing a joke and calls you out on it.

➥ “Does this require more creativity than you expected, [c/n]?”

➥ [in a perfect imitation of matpat’s voice] i find his jokes delightful! [in regular voice, now whispering as if scared i’m going to get caught by ghost saying this] i’m lying. he’s my fictional father figure so i am very much obligated to enjoy his jokes.

—

”[c/n], how copy?” You heard Ghost’s voice crackle through over comms, and pushed the PTT button on your small ear piece to respond.

“Copy, doing just fine,” You responded, “Little bored, if I’m gonna be honest.”

“Oh really?” Ghost breathed out, sounding amused. You could hear some gunfire on his end, and the wind his his earpiece making the annoying whoosh noise you hated. Just a few moments later, Ghost spoke up again, “Y’wanna hear a joke to ease your boredom?”

“Sure,” You’d hummed, looking around to make sure you were still safe to just stay where you were and chat for a moment.

“What do you call a boomerang that doesn’t come back?” Ghost asked, his voice dry and sarcastic. You thought for a moment before shrugging—even though he couldn’t see you—and asking, “What?”

“A stick.” Ghost delivered. The stupid joke made you huff out a small laugh and mutter under your breath something about how good it was, and even though you couldn’t see him, you could practically hear Ghost’s self-satisfied smile.

“Another?” Ghost offered.

“How about I tell one?”

“Alright. Go ‘head.”

“How do ghosts stay in shape?” You asked, listening to Ghost’s amused huff on the other end of the line, like he knew where you were going with the joke but decided not to say the punch line for you.

“How?”

“They exorcize,” You responded, grinning, proud of yourself for thinking of that one.

“That’s not bad,” Ghost hummed, “Not bad at all.”

Ghost stayed quiet for another moment before asking, “Where do fish keep their money?”

“Where?”

“In a river bank,” Ghost said, his smile almost audible in his words.

“Nice one, L.t,” You breathed out, laughing quietly.

“We could do this all night,” Ghost mused, oddly happy at the sound of your quiet laughter, a little rustling audible on his end.

“Is that a challenge?” You asked in response to his musings, to which Ghost responds with a simple, affirmative hum. You think for a moment, before asking, “Why can’t a leopard hide?”

“Why?”

“Because he’s always spotted.”

Ghost hummed, mentally writing that one down before asking, “Why did the scarecrow get an award?”

“Why?”

“Because he was outstanding in his field,” Ghost delivered. With each joke you cringed more, and yet you kept responding with the same bullshit. The two of you went back and forth with the shitty jokes, eliciting responses from each other like, “That’s a good one,” or, “God, that’s awful.” It really had no in between, it was one or the other.

Eventually, and just in time because you were beginning to run out of jokes, Price’s voice crackled through over comms, letting you both know that everything was now under control and gave you both the coordinates for the rendezvous point. Before you get up from your spot, you can hear Ghost asking Price, “Wanna hear a joke?”, and Price’s quick response of, “I’m good”, the quick interaction making you laugh quietly.

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” You muttered, voice full of amusement.

“Damn right he doesn’t,” Ghost huffed out, chuckling quietly when Price groaned and muted himself.

—

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

➥ he just gives up and accepts his fate.

➥ i’m actually in full belief that he’ll just let you tell jokes and won’t even respond.

➥ if y’all are in the same spot, he’ll just stare at you in astonished silence, wondering how you know all of this and also wondering if he’ll make it out of this alive.

➥ i think he’s lovely, i also think that he would just let you do whatever.

➥ it’s like an older brother participating in his younger sibling’s tea party with their stuffed animals and bright pink plastic tea cups and fake tea.

➥ he considers taking out his earpiece but then realizes that that’s a bad idea so he just suffers through it.

➥ surprisingly, it’s easy to focus on his tasks even with your voice in the background.

➥ he’s only heard of ghost’s shitty jokes, and thinks that this might be worse, somehow.

➥ i mean, it’s not like he can’t ignore it, but he feels kind of bad that he does.

➥ he hums every now and then to remind you that he’s listening but he’s too caught up in pretending to listen to actually listen.

➥ when the mission’s over and you eventually stop telling your jokes he realizes how quiet it is without your voice in the background laughing at your own jokes.

—

“Why do bees have sticky hair?” You asked, this being about your twentieth joke of that evening. Gaz hummed in response, tone questioning, and you delivered the punch line, “Because they use a honeycomb.”

Gaz didn’t pay much attention to any of your punchlines, really just letting you get all of this out of your system, figuring that if you didn’t do it now it’d happen to some poor soul later. He accepted his fate early on, the moment you told your third dad joke, he knew it wouldn’t end. Call it a sixth sense of his, knowing when you’d be persistent in your quest to annoy every member of the 141, but he just knew.

“Where do surfers learn to surf?” You asked, giggling quietly at your own joke, despite the punchline being stupid. Gaz didn’t even respond, yet you still delivered, “At boarding school.”

Gaz considers taking his earpiece out for a moment, then thinks again and decides it’s probably better not to, knowing Price’s voice could crackle through into the earpiece and let you both know to head to the rendezvous point. Sighing quietly, he continued to look around him, scanning the area as he walked around, making sure no enemies were left alive. Your voice still hummed in the background, the sound becoming more normal to him and less distracting.

“Why did the tourists feel disappointed after seeing the Liberty Bell?” No response from Gaz. “Because it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.”

“What do rabbits need after getting caught in the rain?” A small, questioning hum. “A hare dryer.”

You continued to tell your jokes, and in the middle of one, Gaz interrupted.

“Y’know,” He started, “If you didn’t already have a call sign, we’d be calling you Jester.”

“I’d love to go by Jester,” You laughed quietly, lightly, “I feel like it’d be more fitting.”

“Probably, yeah,” Gaz chuckled quietly, about to say something else before Price’s voice came through over comms and let you both know to head over to the rendezvous point. After you stop telling your jokes and mute yourself, Gaz can’t help but notice how quiet it becomes.

He got a bit too used to your voice, it seems. He muted himself and sighed, pulling up the coordinates to the rendezvous point and heading over there.

238 notes · View notes

allywthsr · 6 months

Text

EPILOGUE | (l.norris)

summary: epilogue of Lan on Raya! What happened the last three years and another big question.

wordcount: 2.1k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: miscarriage, getting a dog

notes: someone requested this and I thought why not? Give me ideas in my inbox for specific things and maybe it won’t be the last time you hear from these two🫶🏼 it’s short, I’m sorry but I didn’t want to make it too big. comment your thoughts!

part one part two part three

It’s been three years since you met Lando, let’s see what happened.

In the beginning, it was hard for you two to see each other often, with Lando living in Monaco and you in London, you couldn’t just pop over, and with his job as well, Lando travels a lot, and with your job, you had to stay put in one place. So whenever he was in England for the MTC, he came over for a few days to spend with you and whenever you had free time, you would fly over to him or come with him for a race. The whole time you kept in touch via FaceTime or texting, there were weeks when you would see his family more often than you saw him.

Because of the vacation, you created a bond with his family, especially his sisters, and loved catching up with them, they would visit you in London a lot, Lando was always jealous, but you had to remind him, that it was his own decision to move to Monaco.

After a year of a long-distance relationship you decided to move together, temporarily.

Lando moved most of his stuff in your apartment, to see whether you could endure each other or not.

But you did. You could remember one specific evening where it was still fresh with the moving together and Max and Pietra came over. At some point, all of you were hammered and Max decided it was time for Mario Kart. While he and his girlfriend were playing against each other, you were screaming all sorts of advice to Pietra, while Lando hugged you tight to keep you from it. The whole day he had been touchy, squeezing your side and hiding his head behind your back, because he couldn’t stand to see Max driving into the wall for the fifth time. You wished someone had documented this moment, because of how sweet he had been, he was truly like one of these Pinterest boyfriends.

But it all worked out, and the temporary move in became a full move-in.

You two moved into a bigger apartment just half a year later, wanting more space.

That’s also where some negative events happened, just one and a half years into the relationship you got pregnant, it’s not like you planned it, it more or less, just happened.

You had a really bad cold and the doctor gave you medication which apparently messed with your birth control, so when your period didn’t come and you began to puke every morning, you got suspicious. You took a test when Lando was at the MTC, doing a few last tests, before the season started and when it came back positive, you almost fainted. This was not on your bingo card for the year, nor for the next year, after all, you only were in a relationship with Lando for a year and a half, not enough to become pregnant. You took two more tests and when there was no denying that a little human was growing in your stomach, you couldn’t wait for Lando to get home. You tried to call him and say you needed him back sooner but he was in the sim and important meetings where he was forced to switch off his phone.

Once he finally came through the door, you ran and hugged him tight, he had to promise you to not get mad, which he did, and when you told him, you‘ve never seen him react so slowly. At first, he couldn’t believe what you were saying, staring at you in disbelief, and when you repeated it twice he finally hugged you back. Obviously, it wasn’t planned, but he was still over the moon.

In the following weeks, Lando had been the sweetest boyfriend you could imagine, bringing you food, holding your hair and rubbing your back while you puked every morning, cuddling with you and stroking your belly every chance he got. After just one month of discovering your pregnancy, you woke up to really bad stomach cramps, Lando was lying asleep next to you when you saw that the bedsheet beneath you was completely red. You shook Lando awake and he rushed you to the hospital but there was nothing the doctors could’ve done, by the time you got there it was already too late.

The next few weeks have been rough, you barely talked, you barely touched or looked at each other. It was like living with a stranger, saying good morning and goodnight, maybe a nod when he asked you if you wanted to eat something, but other than that, you couldn’t. You felt super guilty for not being able to carry the life inside of you, Lando didn’t know about your thoughts but you had them and they weren’t pretty.

One afternoon Lando basically dragged you in his car and when you arrived, it was a therapist. The sessions had helped you, your mental health, and your relationship, after just one month it was like it never had happened. Not that you forgot about your little baby, but Lando and you talked again, you started to be intimate again, and it felt like it was back to normal. In the backyard of his parents, both of you planted a tree to remind your unborn child, you could see the tree grow like your child should have grown up, but that’s life.

Every day the burden got lighter, until you could fully let go.

The next year and a half was spent with so much love and light. Lando and you started to build a house, it’s something he always wanted to do and so you both got a lot near his parents, where the house was built. You moved in after a year and it was perfect, you were so damn grateful to have Lando by your side, without him you could never have the life you have now. You quit your job and started working at Quadrant, you were behind the scenes and did office stuff, keeping everything organized, that way you could travel with Lando to every race and not be unemployed since you were sure that the boss wouldn’t fire you. After all, you pleasured him nearly every night.

You still went on every Norris family holiday and his family loved you as much as you loved them. You were happy that you had such a good bond with them, whenever Lando was at the MTC and you were bored, you went to his parent's house, enjoying some drinks with Cisca.

All in all, you were the happiest girl in the world, you were sure. He was spoiling you whenever he wanted, buying you things where he would tell you, that he reminded him of you. That Louis Vuitton bag? It was your favorite color and he couldn’t wait to see you wearing it. Bringing you your favorite chocolate from the store, when he only wanted to get gas? He needed to because he knew that your period was due soon. But it was not all materialistic things he spoiled you with.

Kisses on your forehead? All. The. Time.

Needing a hug before every race? Yep.

Making sweet love to you? Every night.

He was addicted to your pussy, he had to be. He worshipped it, taking his time, whenever he went down on you (and it happened all the time).

The topic of kids was still on the table. He wanted to have some after he retired, but when you were pregnant, he was the happiest he‘d ever been. With that in mind, he wanted you to be pregnant soon, you tried to keep his head calm and remind him how hard it could be to become pregnant again after a miscarriage, and how scared you were after the experience. He understood that but still rooted for you to get pregnant.

”You would look so hot with a bump.“

”I can’t wait to talk to my child every day through your belly.“

”Y/N, I want to put a baby in you!“

”I need a mini Y/N and a mini Lando.“

”You‘d be the milf and I’d be the dilf.“

”Imagine them in a race suit and sitting in my car?“

”We could do a quadrant baby merch series!“

The list goes on and on. But he was right, he would be the hottest dilf in history.

Oh and the dog that you both got? Adorable! You got it shortly after you moved into your forever home, it was your favorite breed and you named the little brown dog mocha. He came with you to every race and followed you everywhere, even going to the toilet alone was becoming harder with the puppy needing you. You three went on long walks together through the forest, and when he got older Lando even took him jogging. Mocha wasn’t the happiest about running several miles but when he was with his dad, it didn’t matter. One of the funniest moments was when Lando made a custom LN4 dog bucket hat and sat Mocha in his car, the little dog didn’t know what was happening but he loved the attention he got, the people were taking pictures of him, talking to him and petting him and that was all he needed, but only when both of you were around. Mocha needed both of you, the amount of pictures Lando and you had on your phone of just Mocha and the other cuddling in the evening on the couch or some hotel bed, was insane.

But back to where you are right now, in your backyard. How did you get here? More to that in a second.

The house you both built was perfect, it was modern but homey. The high ceilings were paired with white walls and light wood-colored details, like the Kitchen that had a wood-colored work surface and the living room that had a wood-colored coffee table just like the TV wall. Lando and you loved designing it, taking your time to figure out what you really wanted. You had several guest rooms, that could be turned into kid's rooms, whenever you needed to, Lando built himself a gaming room and you both shared an office. In the basement was a billiard table and other fun things. The backyard was huge, a lot of trees were standing around the property and you loved it, just like Mocha. The little brown dog loved to run around and catch every ball you threw him.

And that was where you were standing right now, the backyard, it was already dark outside but the candles that were lit, made the place glow. You had been cooking dinner when you heard Mocha bark without stopping, in fear that he caught a squirrel again and Lando took it away from him, you made your way to the glass door, but seeing Lando standing surrounded by electric candles, wasn’t something you expected.

”Lando? What is this?“

”Come here, love.“

You stepped closer to where Lando was standing and slowly it dawned on you. While taking your hand, he started to speak.

”Y/N, I’ve known you for more than three years and I must admit, it had been the best years of my life.“

You chuckled.

”We had many ups and downs, but whatever it was, we got through it and it only made us stronger. We‘re already a family with Mocha…“

You looked at the dog that was circling you both, not knowing what was happening.

”…and I can’t wait to grow a bigger family with you. I love you so much, even with your sweatpants and my hoodie, socks that have holes in them, and messy hair. I’ve never seen a much more beautiful woman than you and I‘m so happy I went on Raya that day to get a quick fuck, who would’ve thought that I would find you, my soulmate. I love to play Mario Kart with you at two a.m., and I will braid your hair for the rest of your life, with a face mask in my face that does absolutely nothing, except steal your money. I‘m super thankful for you, for every race you join, how you’re not mad at me for putting a picture of you on the back of my helmet, directly in front of the camera, so everyone can see you while I‘m driving and that way you’re always with me, for every kiss… the list could go on and on, but you know this stuff. I need you in my life, and I will not let you go, so…“

He went down on one knee and now it was more than clear what was happening, with glossy eyes you followed Lando’s movements, as he pulled out a little box and opened it, before taking one of your hands in his‘ again, looking at you with a big smile and the same glossy eyes as you.

”Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?“

a/n: tell me your favorite dog breed in the comments

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando norris x y/n #ln4 #formula 1

383 notes · View notes

hollyhomburg · 7 months

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt.61)

(Sneak Peek) (Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Not everything can go according to plan, sometimes, outside forces conspire to make even most of love stories...fraught.

Tags: Talk of trauma, Brief discussions of animal cruelty (not noodle), philosophical discussions, therapy talk, anxiety, non-sexual subspace, omegaspace, dom! Tae, mommy kink, trans! tae, Assassin! Jimin, referenced crime, violence, possessive behaviors,

W/c: 10.0k

A/n: ahhhhhh at the urging of a few of my followers i've made a little birthday list through amazon just like i did last year! my birthday isn't until the 15th but! i thought i might as well put it here since it's unlikely i'll have the chance to update again before my birthday. thank you guys for always loving me and supporting me even when i'm not being the most productive. I hope this next year means i get to write for you guys more and more <3 please don't feel pressured!

Previous part ~ Masterlist

Part of you wants to run away from her, not towards her as you knock on the library door. There's a soft throaty noise that you recognize as Tae's, inviting you to come in.

She clicks away on her computer, not looking up at you. You stand there in the doorway rocking on your heels for a moment. Her fingers fly across the keyboard, and her headphones are off one ear. Sometimes she gets so into her writing that her music shuts off and she forgets to turn it on. There is no hum coming from them and yet, she does not turn to you when you stand in the doorway.

“Tae?” she does not react, and your shoulders curl in, the ache of being a bother intensifying. Her clicking. You waiting. You wait until you can't any longer, the fear building-

“Mommy?”

Tae stops immediately, her wide brown eyes coquettish in how she looks at you (like she doesn’t know exactly what you want. What you need). Her eyes flick down to your knocking knees.

She opens her arms and you sit on her lap, falling into her a little with how quickly you rush to be enveloped by her touch. Needy. You are always so needy for her. With Tae, it's hard to be self-conscious about it.

Since she’s been spending so much time at home, she’s taken to wearing her flimsy little nightdresses at all hours of the day. Today's dress is white with cream-colored lace, down to her knees, rucked up by your sitting. Fuzzy slippers at the bottom and a thick robe that she’s been in all morning over top. She probably doesn't even realize that it's midday, as focused and as dedicated as she is.

You nuzzle into the collar where her robe has soaked up her scent more. And the hickeys that you left there yesterday, teasing at them with your teeth.

You know she kinda misses getting ready every day, that she misses doing her makeup and leaving for work like the rest of them. You’d promised that you’d accompany her to a coffee shop one day this week that you didn’t have therapy. Just so that she could get out of the house.

All of this takes adjustments. You’re both learning to ask for what you want and to endure what you know you need.

Therapy. The clock says that you have exactly 2 more hours until you need to leave with Jiminie but he’s not home yet. He’s not home yet and neither is Yoongi but your brain is swimming. Knots in your tummy. You don't want to go, you don't want to not go either and you don't know how to stop feeling this way.

“I don’t want to bother you, if you want to go back to writing you can- I’ll just-"

Tae catches your chin in her manicured hand, “What do you need.” It’s more of a command than a question. You sit there and Tae’s looking. Scrutinizing you, breaking you down with just a single look.

Your arms tighten around her shoulders, clinging to her when it becomes clear your neediness hasn’t escaped her notice. This thing clawing at your chest needs to be settled, to be constrained, it's something she can handle.

It comes out of you in a rush, a franticness to your scent that isn’t becoming of Tae’s softest little pup. “Can you make my brain shut off please?”

No sooner have the words slipped from your lips than Tae’s hands lace through your hair and tug hard. A taught breath bursts from you. Any other time you’d be ashamed of the noise you let out but she only purrs in contentment.

She pulls on your hair gently, making you arch your neck until you can't arch it anymore, like she's testing how far you're willing to go to obey her touch. Teasing your shoulders apart, making you not hunch without you consciously making the decision to shift your posture (one of these days, Jin and Tae really are going to posture train you, you have an unfortunate habit of hunching).

The kiss she plants in the hollow of your throat is nothing if not understanding. You're so pliant and malleable when you're overwhelmed. The breathless whine you let out is not sexual, there simply isn't room for any more wanting when the fullest breath of Tae’s dominance rushes over you like a wave.

Tae never raises her voice, never snaps. She doesn't need to to get you to do what she wants. Your eyes are glassy, looking at her when she lets you go, smiling at you as her fingers linger over your lips before she cups your jaw, fingers pressing hard into the joint until it opens. There you go pup, breathe.

“I’m going to tell you what to do, and it’s your job to do as I say pup, do you understand?”

“Yes Mommy.”

Coming Saturday October 7th at 5PM EST (Time zone adjustments below)

152 notes · View notes

joelswritingmistress · 4 months

Text

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 23

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

I saw the Mercedes logo and felt the jolt of adrenaline begin to fade out of my body. I put a hand on my head and sunk back against the iron gates when I saw Dr. Miller exit the vehicle.

My eyes closed and I swallowed hard. “You scared me.” I breathed the words and remained frozen in place. My body couldn't take another jolt that night. Two were too many.

My eyes opened when I felt Dr. Miller in my personal space and I accepted a quick kiss from him.

He studied my expression and his smile faded. “Are you okay?”

“Just a little freaked out,” I admitted. “I didn't think you'd be here for an hour so when the car pulled up I froze.”

“I'm sorry.” He touched my face gently.

I placed my hand over his, relieved he was there in front of me. “No, don't be. It's me. I got shaken up at school and then this.” I shook my head.

Dr. Miller’s eyebrows edged together and teased his forehead. “What happened at school?”

“Can we talk inside?”

He nodded and I could see the concern written all over his face. I turned and punched in the code fully, making the gates edge open and then pulled up the force way ahead of him.

The second we crossed in through the front door, Dr. Miller helped remove my coat from off my shoulders and then confronted me immediately.

“What happened?” He asked.

We were barely a step inside and I knew he wasn't about to let it go.

“Nothing really.” I shook my head.

“Something.” Dr. Miller put his hands on his hips in a fatherly fashion and stared at me intently.

I took a deep breath and reached for his hand, kicking off my shoes in the process. I pulled him with me into the living room so we weren't just standing in the near-dark by the doorway.

Dr. Miller gave in to my non-verbal request and trailed me to the living room. In the corner of the room was a decanter and he helped himself to his typical small pour of bourbon as he turned on a few stray lights in the process.

“Would you like some?” He offered, but I shook my head and he quickly joined me on the comfortable, oversized couch.

“It was probably nothing,” I began.

“I'll be the judge of that.” Dr. Miller sipped his drink and rested his elbows on his knees as he sat forward with his drink in between his hands. His head was turned so his eyes were on mine.

I settled back into the couch and threw a blanket over my lap. “After class I texted you back, and then I texted James. I scooted into the bathroom by the elevator before I left and someone tried to open the door to my stall. I said that I would be right out.”

“It's a multi-stall bathroom?”

I nodded. “Yeah. There's three.” When he didn't ask another question I went on. “Then the person knocked. I told them again I'd be right out. And then they started banging hard on the door and turning the handle over and over until I told them I was on the phone with campus police.”

“And then what happened?”

“They left.” I shrugged and Dr. Miller took a drink. “I texted James and he came down.”

His eyes shifted back to meet mine and he squinted hard. “Why didn't you call me?”

“You were teaching.”

“So what.”

“So.. I.. didn't want to interrupt you.”

“(Y/N), you were attacked!”

“I wasn't attacked.”

“That's..” Dr. Miller pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. He didn't say anything for a long moment.

“I'm.. I'm sorry.. I just thought it wouldn't be appropriate to call you and-”

“Appropriate?” He practically shouted the word.

“Well, we’re not exactly supposed to be together according to the university,” I reminded him just a little sternly. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Call me!” He said, rising to his feet with his arms out wide.

“And what would people think then?” I asked, challenging him.

“I don't really give a shit what people would think,” he shouted back again, pointing a finger in my direction, scolding me further. “Two women have been killed on campus.”

“I'm aware.” I raised my voice just a little.

“And you still act so..” Dr. Miller stopped himself and sipped his drink.

“So what?”

“Nothing.” He looked away.

“So stupid?” I asked, to which he didn't answer. “I called James.”

“You called James,” he scoffed with a huff of a laugh. “Your lanky, little friend who couldn't fend off a squirrel if it attacked you.”

“I didn't want to bother you-”

“Next time you call me,” Dr. Miller instructed harshly as he pinged his own chest hard with his index finger. “Me.” He shook his head and turned his back on me. I felt a lump develop in my throat and tried not to cry out of frustration. “Someone threatens you in the bathroom and-”

“No one threatened me,” I cut him off with a shout and felt my voice crack.

Dr. Miller whipped around and I could see he was prepared to continue with his rant, but he saw my damp eyes and stopped himself.

Fuck. I didn't want to cry. I felt so foolish for crying, but after being on edge twice that night and then having Dr. Miller unexpectedly yell at me over the bathroom incident, I couldn't completely hold it together.

I sniffed in and drew a hand under my eyes to wipe away the tear that fell from each. And then I didn't let any more fall. I looked away toward the windows to the right and saw Dr. Miller approach from the corner of my eye.

He set the bourbon glass down and squatted in front of me, placing his hands on my thighs over the blanket. When he bowed his head I looked down at him and let out a deep exhale.

“I'm sorry.” Dr. Miller shook his head, still eying the floor. “I shouldn't have raised my voice. I..” He shook his head and there was another long pause. “You didn't do anything wrong. I'm just..” He took a deep breath and finally looked up at me. “I don't want anything to happen to you. And something could have tonight.”

“But it didn't.”

“It could have,” he repeated. “Don't ever hesitate to call me. Your safety is my priority. I don't care about my job at the university. If someone finds out, they find out.” Dr. Miller shrugged. “Your safety is an exception to everything.”

“I didn't want to interrupt your lesson.”

“Fuck the lesson.” The stern nature of his voice returned but he seemed to reset again as he looked down and back up at me. “It was smart to call James. I'm sure he scared off whoever it was, but if you're ever in a situation like that again-”

“I'll call you,” I agreed. My eyes were locked on his and neither of us flinched for several seconds.

Dr. Miller finally nodded before taking my face in his hands. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes when he kissed me. At the same time I felt tears escape the corners of my eyes again and when he pulled back I could see the remorse in his expression.

“Don't cry,” he begged. “I'm sorry.”

I pulled him in for a hug and he buried his face in the nook of my neck. “I’ll call you next time.”

“I just don’t want to see anything happen to you,” Dr. Miller said against me.

“I know.”

When he pulled back I leaned in at the same time that he did and we shared another kiss.

“I cut my class short to come home early,” he added. “I just.. I don’t like the idea of you being here alone.”

“Here or anywhere?” I asked honestly.

“Anywhere,” Dr. Miller admitted right away. He continued to hold my stare. “Do you think someone was after you tonight?”

I hesitated before shrugging. “I really don’t know. Maybe someone was just being impatient. Maybe they had a bad day.” It was the same thing I had said to James. “It could’ve been something worse, but I don’t know.”

“Did you get a look at the person?”

I shook my head. “No.” I wish I hadn’t froze up and had it in me to look through the small space in the stall door.

Dr. Miller nodded to himself and sighed.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Don’t be sorry.” He held me against him again and I melted into him. Dr. Miller kissed my forehead. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” I told him.

He let out a deep breath against me and then toyed with my hair. I finally cracked a small smile.

“Let me make you dinner,” Dr. Miller said. “And then we can watch a little TV and go to bed.”

“Okay.”

Our lips touched again and he helped me up off the couch. I reached down for his bourbon glass and took a small sip before handing it to him. It made him smirk.

“Hey,” I remembered my conversation with Tori. “Did you pay my rent for two months?”

“Yes.” Dr. Miller said directly with a nod.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

He looked around the spacious room and then looked back to me. “Move in with me.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” Dr. Miller looked at me. “You’re here all the time anyway. I know it’s only been about a month, but it’s one of those things when you know, you know. I want you to stay here.. permanently.”

Permanently. Why was I one-hundred percent on board with no questions asked - and even less questions answered?

Maybe because you’re falling in love with your hot, rich professor? I reminded myself. I truly didn’t care that Dr. Miller had money. Sure, the castle was unlike anything I had ever seen in my life and it was over-the-top extravagant. But, I would have lived in a tiny, one-bedroom apartment with him in any neighborhood, any town, any place. I was caught up. Caught up in him and his look, his personality, his sexy allure. Dr. Miller was magnetic and I was clinging to him for dear life.

“What do you say?” He asked, swirling the whiskey in this glass before taking a sip. His eyes still pierced mine as he drank.

A smile formed on my face that, for some reason, I was trying to hold back. And then it got bigger and wider and I began to giggle. Dr. Miller smiled, as I was sure he could already suspect what my answer was.

“Yes.” I laughed some more and answered again, “I say yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes!”

Yes. I was moving in with Dr. Miller. And I couldn’t even address him by name. How warped. But I couldn’t deny it, I was completely caught up - and I was loving every minute of it.

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @jiminstinypinky @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @acciowolfstar1

96 notes · View notes

vhsgoghs · 1 month

Text

secrets (Valeria Garza one shot)

Valeria Garza x female reader

Summary: Valeria kiss her girlfriend for last time before a mission. word count: 990 note: English isn't my first language but i have done my best, sorry for any mistakes.

★ masterlist here

★ spanish ver on wattpad (vhsgoghs)

She had endured too many things and her daily life was one of them. She continued there, doing her best not to give in to her thoughts that told her to leave everything behind.

And her only reason for enduring it was the girl who had pressed her lips gently against hers.

"Hello, Val." she murmured, taking a seat next to her and adjusting herself so that there was almost no space between them.

Valeria hated it when people invaded her personal space, but the pretty girl next to her was the exception. She liked that she always looked for a way to be on top of her, hugging her, keeping her company or just sitting next to her.

"Hello" she murmured, shifting her gaze to her and placing a kiss on her cheek.

(Y/N) couldn't help but feel that jumble of emotion inside her, her hands went around Valeria's arm and she laid her head on her shoulder.

She hated having to hide, she hated not being able to kiss Valeria in public, and she hated not being able to show her happy behavior when her other mates were around.

"You have to be serious and focused." It was what everyone had told her before joining the army, but she didn't listen to it, she never thought that she would receive bad looks for her different personality, everyone there was so closed minded that she hated it, sometimes she hated being there.

Then she met Valeria and when her feelings were reciprocated, she felt the greatest joy she had felt in too long, however, there was still a problem: they had gotten bad looks from other people when they started seeing them too close together and she decided it was best to keep it a secret.

Sometimes, Valeria liked her secret relationship, she didn't want to deal with the bad comments, she didn't want to put her sensitive girlfriend through that, maybe it wouldn't affect her, but she knew (Y/N) it certainly would.

(Y/N) had learned to know Valeria in detail and knew that there was something bothering her because she had learned to differentiate between her usual seriousness and those moments where she remained silent thanks to her thoughts.

"What happen?" She asked almost in a whisper. Valeria closed her eyes, sometimes she hated that she knew her so well.

"Have you ever thought about leaving here?" It was a question, even if her tone of voice didn't completely say it.

She sighed, yes, she had thought about getting out of there, but she liked her job, she liked what she did, she knew that she would never accept what she had in mind, would never accept Valeria betraying everything she once believed was right.

"Yes, I think, but I like being with you."

"What if I went with you?"

Her girlfriend raised her face and frowned, she didn't know what to say, her parents would kill her if she dared to leave the army, but something in her tone of voice made the girl think that Valeria already had something on mind.

"Why the question?"

Valeria shook her head, she wasn't going to tell her plan, she wasn't going to tell her how bad she was having it at that moment because she knew that was going to destroy her girlfriend's feelings. Her hands slid to take her girlfriend's in hers, she hated feeling like a secret, but she knew it was for the best.

"There is an important mission today."

"I know." She nodded, she knew she was trying to change the subject, but she wasn't going to force her to talk. "I don't like los vaqueros, but it's work."

Valeria giggled and nodded, she didn't really like working with a team other than her own either, maybe it was for habit or maybe it was because most of them took it as competition, instead of just forming a team in which everyone had to work.

"Come here, we have to work." She murmured. She got up from the ground and extended her hand to help her girlfriend.

There was something in her chest that told her that she shouldn't trust Valeria's attitude, however, she decided not to say anything else, she wasn't going to pressure her.

The rest of the day had gone by normally, however, as soon as she found herself preparing her equipment before leaving, there was something in Valeria's attitude that told her she knew something that she didn't.

"Val." the girl spoke in an attempt to get her attention. She turned and smiled when she saw that her girlfriend had a helmet on, something she never wore, but it looked cute on her.

"Hello, are you ready?"

"Yes, I… I wanted to know if everything was okay." The girl grimaced, she couldn't go on a mission if she felt something was wrong with her girlfriend.

Valeria nodded, but seconds later she looked around, took her hand and gently pulled her to another place where there were not too many people, something was wrong and she knew it perfectly.

"I'm nervous." She admitted. (Y/N) frowned in confusion because Valeria Garza was never nervous and it was something she had always admired about her. "I just want you to know that no matter what happens, remember that I will always come back for you."

(Y/N) nodded, she looked into her eyes with some doubt, she didn't know what was going to happen, she was sure it wouldn't be anything good, but she trusted Valeria more than anything.

Valeria leaned down and pressed her lips against hers, it was a short kiss, just a few seconds, but it seemed loaded with feelings, like those kisses you give frequently thinking that there will always be more.

That was the first time Valeria showed physical affection in public and she couldn't help but smile, not knowing it would be the last.

75 notes · View notes

inkedobsidian · 2 months

Text

~ Fate ~

summary: Lee Yeon takes punishment for killing a human to save Y/N but she puts her life on the line to save him. pairing: Lee Yeon x Reader warnings: blood, pain, knives word count: 2,716 a/n: So this is basically the ‘it was her all along’ trope exactly like the show but a different version so it literally doesn’t follow the show at all, I made it up - hope you enjoy! Requests are open! Prompt list is there if you guys want extra ideas Master-List - Prompts

Even though Lee Yeon had been waiting for centuries to find her again, the moment he did he almost thought she was a mirage. He had been coming to this ice cream shop for years and not once had he seen her before. So when the bell on the door rang catching his attention it was almost like time stood still, or flashed back even.

Somehow she had the same face? It felt like it was too good to be true. So much so that Lee Yeon had to convince himself that she wasn’t real, that it was just a coincidence. It was just his luck that you managed to be the new start at that exact ice cream shop. It felt like a cruel trick from the world, toying with his heart.

He just couldn’t help himself. After a while, Y/N began to notice lights, like fireflies always around her. She always smiled when she saw them like the stars were keeping her safe. Although it wasn’t the stars. Shin-Joo kept trying to warn him not to get too involved, it might not even be her, but of course, he didn’t listen.

Lee Yeon knew that the minute he took another human's life to save hers he’d have a heavy punishment but he knew he’d endure any pain in the world to keep her safe. The whole situation felt like a dream to Y/N. She led such an ordinary life, but if she knew the world that surrounded her she’d have a very different idea.

She never expected her life to completely transform in what felt like the blink of an eye. Normally she was so safe walking home, she had taken this route countless times before. Maybe that was her problem. The minute she felt a pull on her arm she let out a scream. The force of something hitting her in the abdomen was enough to knock her to the ground. As she began to cough the figure stood up straight in front of her. With only light streetlights behind them all Y/N could see was a silhouette. That’s when she sees them, the fireflies.

From the darkness came a blinding light, like something on fire. It illuminated the silhouette red and she thought she imagined it at first, but she could swear she could see glowing eyes in the distance. She watched the figure spin on the spot towards the light, but just as quick as he spun he dropped to his knees. Lee Yeon knew he wasn’t supposed to interfere, that he wasn’t supposed to take a human life, but he broke the rules for her once before and he’d do it a million times over.

Y/N hadn’t noticed that the blunt force she felt was actually a knife so she had no time to react before passing out in the alleyway. Luckily Lee Yeon rushed past to pick her up he dashed to his car trying his hardest to get her to Shin-Joo. Lee Yeon was too focused on driving to even notice that Y/N was dipping in and out of consciousness. Although for some reason, regardless of what just happened to her, she felt safe. She could see the fireflies.

When Y/N finally woke up she was in a stranger's bed, she didn’t enjoy the sudden empty feeling in her stomach. She was fully dressed, still wearing the clothes she had that night except now there was a bandage wrapped around her abdomen. As she made her way around the strange apartment she noticed a smell from the kitchen. She made her way there slowly trying to make as little sound as possible.

Shin-Joo was doing his best to prepare breakfast for the guest as quietly as he could. So much so that when Y/N made a sound entering the room he jumped in surprise letting out a little squeal. Y/N immediately flung her hands up in surprise not really knowing how to react.

“Erm, where am I?” On the list of questions she could ask it felt like the most obvious one. She clearly wasn’t chained up but that didn’t mean something sinister wasn’t happening. Shin-Joo put down the veg he was cleaning and wiped his hands on his apron.

“I’m Shin-Joo, you got attacked yesterday. Do you remember?” He said while motioning towards the chairs at the kitchen island, it was probably best she sat down after a situation like that. As her body sunk into the chair she then felt the pang of pain from her side and suddenly the pieces fell into place.

“The alley… the fire… they were there again.” Shin-Joo nodded as she spoke until the last part, he cocked his head to the side in confusion waiting for her to elaborate but she never did. It was like she was stuck in the memory again.

“What was there again?” Shin-Joo pressed on for information. He couldn’t deny he was interested in figuring out who she was and how she had the same face.

“The fireflies,” She smiled as she spoke as if these tiny creatures were her sworn protector, “Where’s the man gone?” Her sudden mention of Lee Yeon made Shin-Joo jump. Lee Yeon said she was unconscious when he brought her to the vet. She began to look around but she wasn’t going to find him, he’d already gone to accept his punishment.

“He had to take care of some business, you probably won’t see him” Shin-Joo did his best to skate around the truth. Even though she seen the fox right in front of her she would probably never believe in his existence. She immediately started slowly shaking her head from side to side.

“No, you know him so you also know where he is, you have to take me to him” She protested. At first, she didn’t know why she was reacting this way, there was some fire inside of her and she knew that she had to find him again. Shin-Joo was interested in this reaction, he could almost feel her determination. Like something reaching out from the past that was so close, within an arms reach.

He tried to protest but if he had thought Lee Yeon was stubborn he had met a new champion. Y/N would not budge for any excuse or reason in the book and Shin-Joo was almost too excited at the situation to fight back properly. Eventually, he caved and drove her there, it wasn’t like she was going to be able to get in let alone speak to him so if it would satisfy her need then he was willing to entertain her plea to see Lee Yeon.

What Shin-Joo wasn’t expecting was the Y/N just opened the door and walked straight in. She shouldn’t be able to do that. She really shouldn’t be able to do that. With more determination than she’d ever felt Y/N walked through the massive building, almost overwhelmed by emotion or maybe it was just fear. She rounded the corner and came face to face with an old woman who spoke calmly but sternly.

“You should not be here, leave.” There was no emotion on her face. Y/N got the chills just looking at her in the eyes, there were too many stories behind those eyes.

“Please I’m here to see someone, I was told he’d be here.” Y/N didn’t know what to do at this point. She had no idea what she’d walked into and she was completely out of her depth. Despite everything against her she held strong and endured the piercing gaze. The old lady cocked her eyebrow as if she had an idea, let's see how far she would go for a man she’d never met.

“Fine…follow me.” The old woman turned on her heel towards the back of the main room. She snaped her fingers and a part of the wall flung open like doors revealing a grey hellish landscape. She motioned for Y/N to go in. Y/N at this point just assumed she was still asleep. This was an elaborate dream she was having while unconscious. At this thought she let out a laugh, what’s the point of being so serious if it’s just a dream?

“This is a dream right, ahh that’s a re-” Before Y/N could finish her sentence the old lady hit her across the arm with a nearby ruler stinging Y/N instantly. She recoiled in pain and shock. Okay, not a dream then. Everything suddenly got very real, “Okay, not a dream. Got it.”

Y/N had no idea what she was doing and frankly, she was too far to turn back now. She walked through the door and was suddenly in a completely new environment. She was on a dusty and grey cliffside. As if all the color had been drained from the world, it felt like hell. All she could see was the doorframe behind her leading to her normal world and on the other side a long rope bridge. She couldn’t see past more than 10 steps of the bridge it was shrouded in a thick fog. Who knows how long it is? Suddenly she was joined by the old lady who spoke calmly again, like she’d done this a thousand times.

“You have entered into a world you know very little about. He broke an oath when he took a human life to save you and he is now paying that debt on the other side of the bridge. He will remain here until the end of his punishment,” She paused and walked closer to the bridge the wind picking up and making it sway side by side, “However if you are willing to cross this bridge to the other side I will let him go.”

It seemed too easy, Y/N knew that. She walked closer to the bridge trying to guess what the trick was however the closer she got the further she wanted to run away. What was she really doing here, for a man she hadn’t spoken to? Yet he saved her life knowing he would be punished. Maybe she owed it to him. Maybe all of this was still a dream, that was the one she was holding onto.

“It’s too simple.” Was all she could muster. The old lady nodded slowly agreeing with her, she still held the same blank expression and the lack of emotion was really starting to freak her out.

“It is the bridge to Knife Mountain,” The old woman paused almost as if she were waiting to be questioned. However, Y/N loved mythology growing up so she followed along, “You may cross it and free him, but be warned once you start you cannot turn back. This could very well kill you. Is it worth it?”

Y/N took a long time looking in between the door and the bridge, she was talking towards certain death there was no way of beating around the bush about that. Crossing a bridge she can’t see the end of knowing knives are going to be flying towards her. She could feel something in her heart like her soul was glowing like this moment right here is where her entire life changed. So she turned her back to the world she knew and took her first step across the bridge.

Y/N was not going to waste time to find out just how bad this was going to be. Holding both sides of the bridge and trying to keep her head as low as she could she started to walk plank to plank across the rickety bridge. She really hoped this was just a test of bravery and there weren’t any actual knives, she prayed the legends were wrong. It didn’t take long for the first knife to whip past her arm making a slit in her arm, recoiling from the pain she then got hit by a knife flying to her right. Luckily she stood her ground quickly and tried to focus on her steps more than the pain. Luckily they had only grazed past her, almost like the bridge was toying with her.

The next one went a good few layers deep in her thigh and suddenly it was all starting to pick up. Y/N could feel the wind rushing past her and in retaliation, she tried to pick up the pace. Maybe if she could get through it fast enough she could make it out alive. The wind got heavier and suddenly she felt more objects fly past her body. Then she felt it, cut by cut as they just caught minor parts of her skin. It wouldn’t be so bad if it was 1 or 2 but the more she ran the higher the number got. She could feel her skin starting to swell and bleed and suddenly each step felt heavier and heavier. She was losing too much blood to keep running.

Then that fire returned the same fire that made her take the first step. The feeling like her soul was glowing, only it was. She looked down to see what looked like a light coming from inside of her. It roared orange like it was coming alive and suddenly she couldn’t feel the pain anymore. Her body did not feel light but it was almost like it was trying to keep her alive. Then she caught a glimpse of it, a mountainside far off in the distance. That was all she needed a sign she was almost there. As the fire inside her grew the light got brighter. All she could feel was her feet taking her away as if something else was in control of her body.

Lee Yeon who had been shrouded in mist and fog didn’t really know how to react when he saw a flicker of light in the distance. At first, he thought he was imagining it but the larger and closer it got the harder it was to ignore. His eyes couldn't make anything out as the light hadn’t pierced through the fog yet and even as it began to it was too bright to find its source. The chains made it hard for him to look up barely being able to strain his neck but he also couldn’t manage to pull his eyes off the light.

As his vision started to focus and the light started to concentrate he saw Y/N bathed in bright red fire, he could see the flames forming 9 tails behind her with one prominent light emanating from her chest. She had it, the fox orb. The closer she got to Lee Yeon the more she felt like it was dragging her more than leading her, dragging her towards him. With the powers of the fox orb, it didn’t take long for Y/N to end up in front of Lee Yeon.

It was almost like the orb knew she was safe because suddenly the fire faded and she dropped to her knees in front of him. As she strained her neck to look up Lee Yeon could already see the different cuts along her face and neck. Suddenly they were face to face and Lee Yeon watched her eyes fade from the fox glow back to her natural colour.

“I think this means the old lady is gonna let us go now.” She laughed out, although it was strained and breathy due to the pain coursing through her body. Just as she spoke, with almost magic timing, the chains holding Lee Yeon in place disappeared and his arms dropped to his sides, the blood from his body finally flowing again. He heard the door behind him fling open and he could feel the old woman's presence behind him but he really didn’t care. The first thing he did when he was free and could feel again was hold her face.

He looked at her so intently and she didn’t even flinch. She matched his stare and his expression softened instantly and without knowing tears began to well in his eyes. It was real, he had waited all this time after everything he sacrificed. There was so much he had to say, had to do but all that could wait. He just smiled and ran a thumb along her cheek.

“I finally found you.”

#lee yeon #lee yeon imagine #lee yeon fanfic #lee yeon x reader #lee yeon x you #lee yeonx y/n #lee yeonfanfiction #tale of the nine tailed #totnt #lee dong wook #lee dong wook imagine #lee dong wook fanfic #lee dong wook x reader #lee dong wook x you #lee dong wook x y/n #lee dong wook fanfiction

59 notes · View notes

separatist-apologist · 3 months

Text

Something In The Orange

Summary: Someone is trying to murder Eris Vanserra's soon-to-be wife.

And no one can rule him out as a suspect

Note: Big thanks to @octobers-veryown for the mood board and the unknown anon for the song inspiration.

For @sjmromanceweek

Read On AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Arina might have escaped the deep humiliation of the night before had her father not caught wind of it. Rumor spread like wildfire and one little servant walking in on what was a mostly harmless scene had ballooned into a tawdry affair between herself and Eris.

They were betrothed. Who cared? But her father did, if his purpling face was any indication. He said nothing when he stepped into her private sitting room, closing the door quietly before turning to face her.

Arina rose to her feet, setting her book face down on the sofa beneath her.

“What were you thinking?” her father demanded, reaching for her shoulders to yank her closer. “You’ve messed everything up!”

“I—”

“I have been negotiating your contract for better terms and now…” he took a breath, his disgust plain.

“It wasn’t what it looked—”

Her father struck her hard enough that Arina stumbled sideways, tripping into the sharp edge of a side table. “I don’t care what it wasn’t,” her father hissed, his rage bright and hot. “All you had to do was sit in this fucking room like I told you to and everything would be finished.”

“I’m sorry—”

“For what?”

Arina and her father turned to look at Eris, lounging against the doorframe like usual. His body was so casual that Arina might have thought this was just another visit had she not seen the utter rage burning in his amber eyes.

“What are you sorry for, Arina?”

Humiliation burned in the back of her throat. Of course he’d take her fathers side. She couldn’t look at him, trying desperately to control her breathing. “I should have stayed in my room.” There was a pause during which Arina didn’t dare look up. She hated Eris all over again. All the feelings she’d had winked out, vanished like they’d never existed at all. So this was the sort of man he was—at least she knew. Better now than after she’d built him up in her head only to be let down and disappointed.

Eris’s boots clipped over the marble and she wondered if he’d punish her too.

I didn’t regret you. I do now.

Ignoring her father, Eris lifted Arina’s chin with his pointer finger. “That was a rhetorical question,” he murmured, eyes scanning her face. “You have nothing to apologize for.” Eris turned whip fast and shoved her father so hard he fell over the sofa before slamming to the floor. Arina clapped her hand over her mouth while Eris circled the furniture, fingers curling into a fist.

“If you put your hands on her again, I’ll kill you,” he said as though they were merely discussing the weather. “Do you understand me?”

Her father spat blood on the floor, clearly livid. “Yes.”

“Yes your majesty,” Eris instructed, sliding his hands in his pockets. “Say it.”

“Ye—”

“Not to me. To her,” Eris interrupted with a vicious smile.

“Eris,” Arina whispered, well aware that this was going to do more harm than good. “It’s fine. Everything is fine.”

“Say it,” Eris snarled, pressing his boot against her fathers hand.

“Yes, your majesty,” her father spat, forcing himself to look at her. Arina’s heart sank at the sight of him sprawled against the floor. No matter what Eris thought, Arina knew she’d pay dearly for this moment. Somehow, some way, her father would exact punishment for the humiliation of it all. She wished Eris had just let her handle things silently. She could endure, just as she always had. This was too much, had gone too far.

“Go,” Eris said in that bored, snotty tone of his. Her father did, trying to dust himself off and retain some measure of his dignity before striding from the room. Arina didn’t exhale until the door was closed pointedly behind them, her fathers silent fury echoing through her mind.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Arina whispered when Eris turned to look at her.

“No? What would you have preferred?” he asked, cocking his head as though he were genuinely curious. Arina had to banish the image of him sitting on the other side of the bathroom door and his penis—no. She wasn’t going to think about it because it would make her want him, and she needed to focus on her anger.

“You should have let me handle it!” she snapped. Eris made his way toward her, lovely in a fine, hunter green jacket with gold filigree. Had he done that on purpose?

“Help me understand. In the future, you want me to let you handle a man slapping you across the face? Is that what you’re asking me?” Eris demanded, his voice low and lethal.

“You’ve made everything worse,” she whispered. Eris cupped her face in his hand, thumb brushing against the hot, inflamed skin.

“He won’t come near you again if he knows what's good for him. That wasn’t an idle threat,” Eris murmured, eyes searching her own.

“I don’t need your help,” she snapped, pulling away from his touch. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

“So? I gave it to you anyway.”

“Well I don’t want it,” she informed him, wishing Eris would leave her to patch up her wounded pride in peace.

“This is about last night.”

She was going to actually kill him. Of course he thought that she was angry with him but Arina had woken up with a stupid smile on her face. True, being drugged to want him wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined kissing him for the first time but she’d been right about it being a good way to get over her own nerves. Before her father showed up, she’d been hoping Eris would come see her.

“This has nothing to do with last night,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose in an attempt to alleviate some of her frustration.

“No?”

If she turned around, Arina knew her resolve would waiver. She’d see his face, his concern, and she’d give into the feelings coursing through her.

“I need to think,” she lied. She needed to get away from him just long enough that she could have a rational conversation with him. “Alone.”

Eris trotted after her as she swept from the room, an unwanted, handsome shadow. “Explain why you’re angry with me.”

“How—how do you not know?” she demanded, catching a glimpse of his confusion from the corner of her eye. “You know he’s going to retaliate the minute you’re not around.”

“Then I’ll kill him,” Eris said simply with a shrug of broad shoulders. “I wasn’t joking when I warned him not to touch you.”

“How would you know, Eris?” Arina demanded, shoving through a pair of double doors that led toward the courtyard.

“You’ll tell me,” he replied, so certain of this fact.

“Why would I do that? You just assured me you’d have him killed—”

“Because you’re my wife,” Eris interrupted, clearly exasperated. “You owe your loyalty to me, not your father.”

“I’m—first of all, I’m not your wife. Not yet. Maybe not ever at the rate the wedding keeps getting pushed back. But secondly, just because I marry you doesn’t mean I want to see my father executed!”

“What do you mean, not yet?” Eris demanded, catching Arina by the elbow and spinning her around.

“Just what I said,” she protested. Eris looked over the top of her head toward the long retaining wall in the distance behind them. Arina knew it well—it had been the first thing she’d seen when she first came to the palace. Beside her, Apollo’s ears flattened against his head as he let out a low warning growl.

Eris didn’t give Arina a chance to react. With more force than she thought was warranted, he grabbed her by her shoulders and thrust her to the ground, falling gracelessly atop her.

“Eris!” she protested with a rough exhale of air. His body was a solid mass of muscle. Arina tried to push him off, but her fingers met a wet, sticky substance.

An arrow was protruding from Eris’s shoulder. One, no doubt, that had been meant for her. Where would it have struck her, she wondered? She doubted it would have found her shoulder. Eris looked up, wild eyed and furious, as guards began shouting and running in the direction of the bloodthirsty dog now a shadow in the distance.

“You're hurt,” she whispered, touching his cheek with her fingertips.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, bossy as ever. Eris made her lay there in the grass, body pinned beneath his own, until one of his guards gave the all clear. If they’d caught the assassin, no one said. Arina was left to help haul Eris to his feet while he insisted he was fine, arrow buried in his shoulder notwithstanding.

“You’re fussing,” Eris complained, though something about the way he watched her told Arina that Eris didn’t mind too terribly.

“Stop talking,” she ordered, striding from his living room to the door where a healer was on their way.

“Yes, my love,” he muttered sarcastically. Arina stayed in that room even when the healer suggested she leave—as if seeing Eris shirtless was something scandalous given his cock had been out just the night before. With her arms crossed over her chest, Arina stated that given someone had tried to kill him, she’d supervise.

The healer didn’t like the insinuation but Arina remained, eyes trained on Eris even when she would have preferred to look away. Privately, she felt lost—adrift. He could have let her take the arrow. Why hadn’t he? It didn’t look particularly enjoyable having it removed and as the healer worked, Arina could see other scars faded against his toned, muscular form.

When she circled around him, Arina thought she might be sick. His skin was an ode to cruelty, the lines of a whip etched so deeply into the canvas of his skin that Arina didn’t know how he’d survived any of the lashes. What could Eris possibly have done to warrant such torture?

He looked over his shoulder, eyes blazing a warning. Don’t.

She waited until he was bandaged up to hurry the healer out of the door. Eris was already on his feet, wincing in pain. “I need to speak to my father.” “You need to get in bed and rest,” Arina retorted, rounding on him so quickly that despite their height difference, Eris stumbled back a step.

“Only if you get in bed with me,” Eris crooned, looking to regain some of his lost pride. Arina raked her eyes back down his naked chest, noting the way the muscles tapered toward his hips and what she knew was waiting just inside his pants.

“You’re hurt,” she reminded him.

Eris shrugged. “I hurt less in your presence.”

“Liar.”

Eris’s hand flung to his heart, face filled with faux outrage. “I would never. Now, come lay down with me.”

He turned, revealing those criss-crossed scars once again. Arina sucked in a breath earning a groan of frustration in return. “Don’t,” he whispered.

“Who did that to you?”

“Why don’t you come to my bed and kiss it better,” Eris suggested, clearly unwilling to tell her the truth. Arina could piece it all together, though. As she trailed behind him, admiring how nice he was to look at, she thought of his extreme reaction to her father striking her.

Had it hit a little too close to home for him? Had he seen himself in her and decided he’d protect her even if he couldn’t protect himself?

His bedroom was massive and just as nicely decorated as the rest of his space. Arina looked around, taking in the open windows pouring golden light against his large, velvet draped bed. A whole sitting area took up the other half of the room, with books stacked high on a glass table. She wanted to pick through them and see what Eris liked to read.

But he’d flopped into bed with a groan, his good arm thrown out in invitation.

“Am I going to regret this?”

Eris flashed her his most charming smile. “Oh, almost certainly.”

And still, Arina got into his bed anyway.

ERIS:

In the end, he’d gotten what he wanted. Night had fallen and Arina was still in his bed. Propped up on a sea of pillows with a tray of food spread out over the bedspread, Arina listened as Eris explained each and every ruling family in his territory and why they either did or did not like them.

Eris didn’t care about any of it. With each passing hour, Arina relaxed further, until she thought nothing of his arm touching her or how he was half undressed. Night had fallen and she was still beside him while Eris milked his injury for all it was worth. It did hurt, though a mixture of herbs had dulled the pain and Arina kept peeking at his bandages to make sure everything was healing up as it should.

“It’s getting late,” Arina told him when Eris finished, her eyes bright. “I should let you sleep—”

“You should stay,” he replied, his voice rougher than he would have liked. It caused her to look over, hair draped over her shoulder. Eris had been pulling out pins all afternoon simply for his own enjoyment.

“I think you’re going to live,” she said, brushing a knuckle over his cheek. “You don’t need me.”

“Wrong,” he insisted, grabbing her wrist to pull her against him. “I do need you.”

She knew exactly what he wanted and Eris couldn’t bring himself to care. “Eris…”

“You know, I’ve never had to beg a woman to get into bed with me,” he informed her without thinking. Arina’s pleasant expression soured, nose wrinkling as he stupidly reminded her that he’d been with more women than he could count.

She’d been with no one at all. The scales were wildly unbalanced between them.

“Call one of them, then,” she said, pulling at her wrist. Eris only held tighter. He could salvage this, he decided.

“I don’t want them. I want you.”

“Because you can’t have me. This is just obsession,” she said, more to herself than to him. Rising up with a soft groan, Eris reached for her face. “This is more than obsession, Arina.”

“You’ll get what you want and then you’ll be done.”

Oh, how he had once thought so. “If that were true it would be you with the bandaged arm begging me to stay with you.”

“What are you saying?” she asked breathlessly. What was he saying? Eris wasn’t sure he wanted to finish that train of thought. She wasn’t his wife yet…though…she could be. Eris released her wrist, his half-formed plan taking shape in his mind.

“Marry me,” he told her, looking at the woman beside him like it was the first time he was seeing her. “Tonight.”

“Oh, sure. Why not,” she replied, flashing a pretty smile.

“I’m serious. We’ll—we’ll go to the temple. Lucien and Elain can play witness. We’ll still have the big ceremony but…”

But they can’t take you from me if I marry you now.

“I don’t mind waiting—”

“Well, I do mind. And I think once I’ve married you, the attacks might stop.” This was just a theory, of course. Eris intended to inform both her father and his of what he’d done and his rationale behind it. Their reactions would tell him everything he needed to know. The deal would be officially done, then. Wherever their negotiations landed, that's where they would stay.

“Eris—”

“Say yes,” he said, rising from the bed with purpose. “Say yes and let’s get married.”

“All this just to see me naked?” she demanded.

He shrugged. “It crossed my mind. Is it hard to believe I might want you as my wife?”

“No, it hadn’t.”

“Well, get comfortable with the thought. And get dressed,” he added, making his way to the armoire.

“Is this not nice enough?” she asked, gesturing toward her rumpled blue dress. A new thought was occurring to Eris—if he made her look like a princess, someone might stop him before he finished his impulsive, scattered plan.

“You’re perfect,” he decided, shrugging on a lace up shirt. It took a moment to get his injured arm through the sleeve and Arina, the sweetheart, helped him with his jacket and then his boots. Once he was dressed, the pair stared at each other.

It was absurd. He could still back out.

“Ready?” he asked, heart hammering in his chest. Gods, he was actually doing this. More than that, Eris wanted to do it. Wanted to be better than his father, to have a relationship that made his mother proud. Maybe nothing had ever worked because he was waiting for her. Or maybe Arina was right and Eris merely wanted what he couldn’t have.

It didn’t matter.

Right then, he wanted her.

What happened next was a blur, even to Eris. He had to wake up his brother and track down Elain and sneak the four of them into the city and then heavily bribe his guards to remain where they were and keep their mouths shut. After that, the priestess took over. A license was drawn up, signed by Arina first while Eris stood there holding his breath, certain she wouldn’t.

The paper was all that mattered. Eris was quick to pull it from the priestesses hand, likely smearing the ink in his haste before he folded it into his jacket pocket.

Words were spoken. Willingly, even, which seemed unbelievable to Eris. Arina smiled through some of it, giving the impression she was happy with the circumstances surrounding the pair of them. Eris felt lighter the moment the priestess told him to kiss Arina—unburdened, somehow.

“Father is going to kill you,” Lucien warned Eris as they walked back. “Are you prepared for his anger?” “He’s not going to care,” Eris insisted, but Lucien shook his head.

“Maybe not about the marriage. But he’ll care you went around him. I hope you have a plan for that.”

Eris took a breath. “I can handle father.”

Eris didn’t want to think about Beron right then and Lucien must have noticed. He herded Elain into a different corridor before the girls could make plans that involved anything but Eris unbuttoning Arina’s gown.

She was waiting in his bedroom, eyes bright, a smile on her face. “All this just to see me naked, Eris. Was it worth it?”

“That depends,” he replied, closing the bedroom door with his foot. “Take off your dress.”

“Isn’t that your job?”

Eris lifted his injured arm as much as he could. “Help a man out.”

Offering him a look of exasperation, Arina began undoing the buttons on her dress. Eris noticed her trembling fingers and the way she was trying to hide her blushing face behind the long, thick strands of her hair.

“Come here,” he murmured, perfectly pleased to finish what she’d started. Maybe she’d feel less nervous if it was his insistent hands touching her rather than demanding she strip for him. It was pure pleasure to push her sleeve from her shoulder revealing smooth, unblemished skin. Eris took his time, revealing her body inch by inch until she was standing in a band of firelight utterly naked.

Holy Hells, he thought privately. “My wife,” he murmured, brushing a kiss against the side of her neck. “Who we are in here is whoever we want to be. Who we are once we leave this room are who we need to be. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” she whispered softly, angling her neck so he could kiss her again. Brushing her hair to the side, Eris let his fingers trail over the length of her spine. For now, they’d have to be distant and cold around others—at least until Eris could be free of her father.

And maybe his, too.

That was a thought for another time, though. At the moment, Eris found himself staring down the naked body of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and he wanted to enjoy this moment. After all, Lucien might be right. Beron wouldn’t necessarily care that Eris had gone off and married Arina to end negotiations with her father, but he would likely care that Eris hadn’t obtained his permission first.

If he was going to be punished, at least let the pain be worth it.

Using his fingertips to turn her chin, Eris kissed her like he’d been dreaming about. Ever since she’d kissed him in the hall under the influence, Eris had been trying to get back to the moment before he knew. When he thought it was all genuine and she just wanted him the way he wanted her. She was naked and he wasn’t which offered him a little bit of leverage. He held all the power in that moment, taking advantage to really kiss her as he stepped her backward.

Arina plopped onto the bed, eyes bright.

“My turn,” he murmured. He wanted her to watch him. In better circumstances, Eris would have been totally naked within seconds. He kept forgetting his injured shoulder though it had not forgotten him. Eris tried to raise his arms over his head only to release a hiss of air. Arina, the pretty little thing, was on her feet after that with a sultry look on her face.

“Can I help?”

“You can do anything you want to me,” Eris swore, standing perfectly still as she helped him out of his shirt. Her fingers, still trembling slightly, moved to the laces on his pants.

“I saw you before you left,” she whispered, looking up at him before pushing his pants down his hips.

“I wasn’t trying to hide myself from you,” Eris lied. He had absolutely been trying to do that. “Did you like what you saw?”

Her fingers curled around the base of his cock, half swollen with excitement, as she pulled him from his pants.

“Yes.”

Eris held his breath, forgetting that his trousers were now pooled around his ankles. All he could do was watch her hold him in her hand, thumb running along the vein beneath. Arina stroked him once, looking up to see if he liked what she’d done.

Eris grabbed her face for a messy, almost brutal kiss. Forgetting about his wound and the healer who had instructed him to be gentle, Eris fell to the bed with Arina in a tangle of limbs and clothes. He just needed to press his skin against her own, to feel her body on his. Arina was soft and smelled like coconut somehow and all Eris could think about was if she tasted like it, too.

Once he’d kicked off his pants, it occurred to Eris that all he really needed to do was lift one of her legs to her chest and slide himself into her body. He doubted she’d stop him and once she got over the initial shock, Eris argued with himself that he could make it enjoyable for her.

He wanted it so badly he pushed her legs apart with his knees, still kissing her frantically. Arina bit his bottom hip, causing his hips to grind against her where the head of his cock found how slick she was and holy hells, he wanted to die.

They had all night. Why couldn’t he just— “Hells,” he breathed, pulling himself away before he gave in. Eris’s control was shredding and he’d had her naked in his bed for what? A minute? Less? Looking upward at the darkened ceiling, Eris forced himself to take several slow, deep breaths.

He didn’t want her giggling at court about how quick he’d been. Or worse, to tell people he’d been selfish. Eris had a reputation to maintain, after all…though in truth, he merely wanted to drag out their first time. He’d never get another shot at it, and there was pleasure in forcing himself to wait.

His cock throbbed in protest as Eris returned to his wife, who was staring up at him with a wary expression.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered as he nipped at her neck.

“Nothing,” Eris rushed to reassure her, “you’re perfect. Relax.”

He knew she wouldn’t. She was waiting for him to get things over with and Eris would be damned if those were the same thoughts running through her head by the time he slid himself inside her. She’d be begging for him, would scarcely feel the intrusion.

Or, he hoped at least.

Eris continued his slow exploration, taking his time with her breasts before licking his way between her legs. She was watching him, head inclined on a pillow. He’d warned her he was going to do this—had told her as much when they’d been separated by the door. It was something he enjoyed doing and more than anything, Eris wanted Arina to associate pleasure with his tongue more than his cock.

Groaning as he shifted his weight onto his injured shoulder, Eris wondered briefly if he could convince her to straddle his face. If he told her he was hurt, would she oblige him? Looking up at her, he decided to try his luck later—maybe after he’d already had her and she knew what to expect. It was impossible to tell how much of her modesty was genuine versus the social conditioning she’d experienced.

One would make getting her on his face easy and the other would require some time and patience. Eris had both in abundance. Even then, as he spread her legs wide so he could drink her in, Eris was exercising restraint.

“Eris,” she whispered, squirming ever so slightly. It was easy to slide his good arm under her hips and pull her closer, trying so hard not to put a lot of his weight on his shoulder. When he caught whoever shot that arrow, Eris intended to torture them for days, just for impeding his ability to have his new wife the way he wanted.

“Lay back for me,” he whispered, though in truth he hoped she watched. It was doing something for him to know she wanted to look at him. Too often blankets were pulled over his head, forcing him to work beneath the covers so as not to offend the delicate sensibilities of whoever he was with.

“Eris, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he breathed, taking a tentative taste. “I need to.”

That was true, at least. Eris was coming out of his skin and it had nothing to do with his injury and everything to do with his aching cock wedged against the mattress. Eris shifted his hips in an attempt to alleviate some of his arousal but with Arina’s pretty, wet cunt inches from his face all Eris managed to do was make himself more desperate.

No one had ever accused him of being smart.

Eris licked her again, intending to draw things out. Arina bowed off the bed, gasping for air and Eris was utterly wrecked. So it was like that, then? He wanted more of that reaction, chasing it with the flat of his tongue. He’d forgotten why he wanted to do this other than he liked it, and remembered only after a few minutes of sucking and licking that he should probably try and prepare her for his cock afterward.

It was pure hell, sliding in that first finger. Eris swore against wet skin, pumping that finger in and out while the rest of his body screamed in protest. She was so warm, so wet and Eris could feel every inch of her on his cock like a phantom kiss. Marrying her had been smart, he decided, returning his attention to her clit. He should have done so weeks ago—the moment he met her, if only to get them both right back here.

All that time wasted wishing she would leave when he could have been fucking her. What a waste of time, of his life. All he could do was make up for lost time…and wedge in a second finger.

“Eris,” Arina breathed, carding her fingers through his hair. “Eris, please.”

Eris merely groaned, unwilling to pull his mouth off her. She was close and there was no dragging it out any longer. Not anymore. He needed to hear her come, needed to feel it on his fingers, his tongue…his cock. It was all Eris could think about, narrowing his vision until they were the only people alive and this was all that mattered.

Arina’s thighs tightened around his face, her breath coming in short, staccato pants. Her voice was a melody and that little cry when she came was pure music. Just like before when they’d been separated by the door, Arina didn’t know better to fake her pleasure, which made Eris want her more.

He pulled himself off her when she began shoving at his head, crawling up her body for a messy kiss. His arm protested beneath the movement but Eris didn’t care—not when her tongue invaded his mouth, greedy as ever. He’d pay for this later he was sure when the healer returned and realized he’d wrecked his injury worse than it had ever been.

Eris just didn’t care. Arina’s nails were sharp against his back, her teeth grazing his lip and Eris was a creature of need first, humanity second. She didn’t even realize he was slotted against her, rubbing the head of his cock against her still sensitive skin until Eris pushed himself an inch into her body.

Her eyes flew open as she gasped.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, kissing her softly. “Stay with me.”

And she did, kissing him back with each new inch Eris took. It was hell—all he wanted was to bury himself completely inside her, to forego the slowness in favor of passion. She could handle it, Eris knew she could. With every bit of herself she conceded, Arina relaxed a little more until she was totally loose beneath him.

It was worth it, he decided. Next time would be easier, could be rougher if he wanted. Now, though, Eris held himself entirely within her, resisting the urge to move so he could kiss her. He considered asking how she felt, but Arina arched against him, skimming her fingernails down the side of his body before pushing at his hips.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, pulling himself out just so he could thrust back in.

Arina whimpered in response.

He couldn’t help himself, his injured hand wrapping loosely around her throat while his thumb brushed against her lips. “Tell me what you want, Arina.”

“You,” she replied, rising up to meet him. Arina matched him thrust for thrust, back arched so her breasts were flush against his chest. It was heaven and hell all at once and Eris was certain nothing had ever felt so good in his life. Pleasure pooled low in his gut, forcing Eris to squeeze his ass together in an attempt to stave off his inevitable orgasm.

“Come on,” he whispered, rising up on his knees so he could rub his thumb against her clit. “I want to feel you come on my cock.”

She merely moaned, throwing her head to the side. Was this love, he wondered? Or merely the seconds before he came, eroding all his good sense? Eris was about to find out. Arina came, tightening around him so brutally that Eris had no choice but to come, too. He’d lost total control of his body, chasing pleasure until he was pressed back against her, kissing her as though he could taste her own orgasm.

She was sweet and he was in hell. Panting, Eris pressed his forehead in the crook between her shoulder and neck.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” Arina whispered, pressing her lips to his jaw.

“Why?” Eris asked, panic coursing through him.

“You’re hurt,” she murmured, fingers brushing his arm. “I could have waited.”

His cock was still buried inside her as he said, “I couldn’t. But if you’re worried about my injuries, I have an idea.”

He didn’t wait for her to ask what the idea was, flipping them over while she squealed and dug her nails into his chest.

“You’re ridiculous,” Arina breathed, rolling her hips all the same.

Eris only smiled.

Oh, how he knew it.

#eris vanserra #trying to finish this in six chapters vs seven #we'll see how i do

58 notes · View notes

subskz · 3 months

Note

trying to find a punishment to discipline jisung when he acts out would be so difficult bc honestly that little masochist likes them too much. edging, overstimulation, bondage, spankings— he enjoys them all, to the point that it’s almost a reward to him sometimes, an incentive to misbehave. so the next time he starts being all bratty and insufferable to you with that familiar glint in his eyes, he’s practically begging for u to show him his place

…so u tie him up, strap him to a fucking machine + put a cockring on him, to make sure he won’t be able to cum despite the never-ending stimulation he has to endure, while u go attend to mundane tasks in another room so that his constant spill of moans falls on deaf ears <3

maybe he was teasingly flirting with other ppl to try make u jealous, and so u tell him before leaving that “this is what u wanted, isn’t it? to be fucked? here. if you’re gonna act like a slut, you should be ready to be treated like one”

it would rly be torture for him :(( his shaking body would tense up with every one of the machine’s unchanging rhythmic thrusts.. poor spoiled baby gets whiplash bc of how different it is from the way you fuck him; you’re usually so receptive to his requests to switch up ur speed or pace or hit one of his sweet spots according to how he wants it at that moment, so the cold, unfeeling piece of tech teasing his hole only makes him want you more </3 he misses being able to hold ur hand while u rail him, and the stimulation he’s subject to is both too much and not enough, continually bringing him up to the brink of his orgasm but failing to tip him over bc of the cockring. his length lying against his abdomen is so hard he’s aching, he’d try grind down on the machine to catch his orgasm but he’d eventually keel over in exhaustion when he realises it’s impossible :(( his volume, which is already shamelessly loud by default, would reach another level if u toyed with him like this, an uninterrupted soundtrack of broken moans filtering through the walls. it goes from blissful, sweet moans at the beginning as he enjoyed the metrical pleasure being given to him, to hiccups and sobs and pleas for more after being left on the edge so many times, slurring out promising that he’s learnt his lesson, just pls come back and look at him </3

u’d leave him like that until his flushed face is glistening with his tear-stains, sweat n drool. boy might even thrash so hard he breaks his ties or the whole machine apart 😭

maybe u even come back at one point and his face lights up like a christmas tree, his begging immediately going silent as ur long-awaited presence pacifies him, and he thinks ur finally surrendering to his pleas. he watches u walk in like u hung the stars in the sky, tear-filled shining doe eyes tracing ur body in awe as u take off ur panties, only to become increasingly confused when you still don’t pay him any mind and say nothing, ignoring his questions as you fasten his ties tighter again. you then put your discarded panties in his mouth to work as a gag and turn up the machine to the highest speed, muffling his cries when you exit the room again, leaving him alone and coming forced orgasms dry, over and over <3 until you decide he’s been through enough and return for real

he doesn’t see you coming in this time because his eyes are screwed so tightly shut and his smothered moans are still loud enough to drown out the sound of your footsteps, his own whimpers ringing in his ears like white noise. he doesn’t even register that you’ve turned off the machine and taken off the cockring until he feels your soft, grounding hands at his sides bringing him back to earth. even though his body is so weak, he’d reach out towards u with grabby hands in an instant. you kiss his tears away affectionately, and, if he’s still got energy left in him, you reward him for getting through his punishment so well with a real orgasm from whatever he’d like. otherwise, you go straight to a warm bubblebath and cleanse him of the sticky mess of fluids covering his skin.

he’s too fucked out to move, limbs like a rag doll’s, so u wash him down with a soapy cloth urself while you whisper praises and he lets out tiny satisfied hums. pretty thing would shyly apologise for being disobedient earlier and ask u to give him kissies to make him feel better ♡ (the anon who said he’d make rubber duckies kiss and say it’s u two after just finishing super rough n intense play before is so right btw)

😭 han 😭 ji 😭 sung 😭

— 🌸

😭 han 😭 ji 😭 sung 😭!!! my exact reaction while reading this delicious ask you really served us up a 5 star meal w this one

masochistic lil hannie is just so easy to please isn’t he!! it’s as hot as it is frustrating how he’ll take anything you give him so eagerly and even beg for more. i 100% agree he’d enjoy practically any punishment you try to dish out to him way too much, it’s more like positive reinforcement than anything else bc at the end of the day, he gets to feel good and he gets all your focus on him, exactly what your cute little attention whore wants so bad <3

strapping him to a fucking machine and putting a cockring on his dick is soo genius i love it 😽 he gets fucked senseless by a toy instead of you, can’t cum, and on top of that doesn’t even get the satisfaction of you at least watching him fall apart for you…it’s poor jisungie’s nightmare ): what’s the point of acting up if he doesn’t get ur attention out of it! he’d whine so loud when you tell him that if he wants to act like a slut he gets treated like one…the needy pout and big pleading gaze he fixes you with would be so hard to resist when he whimpers out that he wants to be your slut, he wants you to treat him like one, not anyone else or any toy

the visual of his flushed face covered in tears and sweat and saliva w his hair ruffled so cutely and his mouth full w your panties would be to die for ♡_♡ you grab his jaw and give it a lil squeeze so that he opens up obediently, only for you to scold him for being so fucking noisy and stuffing your underwear in his drooling mouth. he would moan so pathetically loud the moment it touches his tongue bc he’s so desperate for you that even the faint taste of you is enough to make him crazy

the grabby hands ㅠㅠ that’s so adorable…as much of a handful as hannie might be he still deserves to be treated so sweetly once all the brattiness has been railed out of his system and he’s back to ur sweet affectionate lil angel ♡

#you really came back w a bang 😭❤️‍🔥 it’s good to see u again!#ask #🌸 anon #💌 hannie

162 notes · View notes

animeyanderelover · 1 year

Note

Being abducted probably means sleeping in the same bed with the yandere, right? How would the yanderes sleep (SFW) with their s/o ? Like, what if the darling isn't comfortable sleeping with someone, especially when it's summer, a clingy yandere would be kind of a nightmare, and if the Yan is strong, then there's no way to kick them from the bed, now is there? For manipulative yanderes, the manipulation probably won't work in this case, right? I mean, guilt tripping only works in some cases.

+ Bonus point if they have sleeping habits (sleep talking, staying up late, nightmares, snoring etc.)

Yanderes requested : (Tokyo Ghoul) Kaneki, Haise, Ayato, (BSD) Dazai, Odasaku, (HxH) Chrollo, Shalnark, Feitan and (Kakegurui) Yumeko, Ririka.

That’s a interesting question. Here’s the very clear difference between those who care and won’t care though.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, clinginess, manipulation, forceful behavior, paranoia, abduction

Sleeping with a Yandere

Chrollo Lucilfer

📖Honestly, Chrollo doesn't really care about what his darling wants. He's greedy and incredibly selfish, is already forcing his darling to endure all of his affection he gives them. He knows that you hate him but feelings tend to change quickly under the right circumstances and Chrollo is a good manipulator. You're delightfully easy to read as you can't hide your emotions from him and Chrollo uses that shamelessly. He's suave, good in playing mindgames although refusing to sleep in the same bad as him doesn't take much from you. Surprisingly he seems to let you go when you decide to sleep elsewhere but the very next morning you find yourself waking up in bed next to him. No matter where you sleep, he always carries you back to him as soon as you've fallen asleep. Sometimes you can't help but feel like he's threatening you a bit with a slight smile and soft tone.

📖 When it comes to Chrollo's sleeping habits, one of them is that he stays up late and appears to be somewhat insomniac for his darling at times. At one point he's basically just coaxed them into heading to bed together with him via some light threats and the wise use of his abilities. A light is always burning next to you as he reads a book. Occasionally he puts the book aside and just looks at you, caresses you. If he knows that his darling is still awake, chances are that he'll start talking to them, even if they refuse to answer him. There's no need to try to fake your sleep, your body language and the pattern of your breath always give you away to him. On the rare moments where you wake up to him actually resting, you get quickly uncomfortable with the one arm tightly wrapped around you, pressing you effectively close to his toned body. Chrollo is a really light sleeper too so he wakes up as soon as you move a bit too much but insists on staying in this position for a while longer.

Feitan Portor

☠️ Feitan keeps his darling initially only chained up in a basement since he only spends time with them if he either tortures them or patches them up. He's a brooding mess of emotions at the beginning, lashes out on you because he can't get a grasp of the strange warmth that blooms inside of his chest. He can't possibly love someone, he can't have fallen for a pathetic and weak thing like you. You're deprived of your sleep for days on end since Feitan gets lost in the mess called his feelings. You normally end up fainting from blood loss and pain and sometimes because Feitan actually gives you a break. There's no such thing as hygiene though as you're covered in your blood and sweat and have to fall asleep on the dirty and cold ground as soon as your captor has loosened your chains a bit. If Feitan is nice, he might give you a pillow and a thin blanket.

☠️ You're moved up in his room the moment Feitan stops hurting you as he gives up to his growing feelings. At first he still lets you sleep on the floor next to his bed, unwilling to give you the privilege of sleeping next to him. It's a hundred times better than being in the basement though. Feitan seems to stay up at night too, is often away to clean and care for his collection of torture devices whilst you're tied up so you don't leave the room. He goes to bed very late since he sleeps little but makes an effort to be silent to not wake you up. When you wake up at night, you sometimes catch him staring at your form on the floor although he senses when you're awake quickly and turns around. When you're finally let in the bed, something he doesn't give you a choice in and just scares and threatens you, he still ties you up for lingering spite. He barely moves at night and always chooses to leave as much space between you two as possible. Weirdly enough sometimes you two wake up to him being very close to you.

Shalnark

📱 Shalnark is very similar to Chrollo in the sense that he likes forcing the domestic relationship on his s/o and also relies heavily on manipulation and guilt-tripping. He's sickenly sweet to his s/o as he tries to coax them into anything with him. Your complains and protests that you don't want to sleep in the same bed as him are met with this scarily nice smile of his although he might act a bit upset during the course of this little quarrel. Arguing with his sweetheart isn't good so Shalnark makes the promise to let them sleep somewhere else but he has other plans. He could use his Nen but he doesn't want to use that just yet. Instead Shalnark is much more the type to drug the food and the drinks you consume to help you falling asleep easier.

📱 Shalnark sometimes snores lightly but it isn't something to get worked up over. The blonde even tries to go to sleep around the same time as you even if he has to stay up longer every once in a while to do some business for the spiders. During such times it's not unlikely that he snaps a few pictures of his darling being asleep since they look too adorable. He just wants to spend as much time with his little sweetheart as possible. The notably worst thing about a sleeping Shalnark is his clinginess. He has an anaconda grip around you and doesn't let loose even after he's fallen asleep. No, instead he tightens his grip a bit when you move too much and that is especially bad if you need to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night since it requires for you to wake him up which you don't really want to do. His darling should be careful with their behavior at night though since Shalnark might have to chain them up if they're too aggressive.

Ken Kaneki

🔲 Kaneki is actually pretty respectful even if he is very paranoid. He wants his s/o to be as comfortable as they can be with him having kidnapped them so he lets them take his bedroom and he himself starts to sleep on the couch. It isn't like he wouldn't want to sleep with them in one bed since he's starved for affection and touches but he's shy and flustered whilst thinking about it and also knows that darling most likely still despises him. It's a way to get by and you most likely don't get into another argument with him about another thing. It isn't good for his mental health and not good for you either when he has his mental breakdown. Kaneki doesn't even bother you anymore the moment you go to sleep as he completely adjusts his schedule to your sleeping schedule.

🔲 You sometimes hear him when you're already in bed as he takes care of the household chores, prepares food or cleans something although he does his best to be as silent as possible. The hidden truth is that Kaneki has troubles falling asleep and is even scared to do so. He has a trauma regarding Jason and his torture and even more paranoia knowing you and your current hatred for him. So it happens that you wake up to him crying and screaming whilst he has a vivid nightmare and if the dream was especially terrifying he storms in your room and latches onto you for a few seconds before he snaps out of it. It happens more often than both of you would like and leads Kaneki to the point where he skips sleep for days on end just so you can have a calm night for once. He needs you to allow him to sleep with you before he really does it, prepare for his clinginess though. The nightmares cease a bit since your presence and warmth is soothing for the male although sometimes they still appear.

Ayato Kirishima

🌌Ayato struggles with his affection he feels for this little humans since their kind is weak and his sworn and hated enemy. The clash of conflicting emotions and the denial he constantly shows in regards of his tender emotions results in this rough and slightly sadistic behavior of his. Ayato keeps in mind though that you're still human and arranges things a bit to be more considerate. He keeps you initially in a separate room from his own, a room that is locked up and can't be opened from the inside. It doesn't consist of much except for a tatami matt, a pillow and a blanket but it's enough for you to try to sleep even if you're still highly afraid of the ghoul boy. Ayato does his best to not mind you but sometimes he checks shortly on you, at times when he thinks that you're already asleep.

🌌 At one point he sort of wants to sleep in one bed with you but his pride holds him back from asking you the question. He somehow wants you to ask him first but doesn't know how that should happen since you don't like him. He gets offended and spits harsh words at you the moment you mention dierctly to him that you don't want to sleep with him in the same bed, hisses at you that you ought to be grateful that he kept someone as pathetic and useless like you even alive before he storms away. Chances are that he is pissed enough afterwards to worsen your life condition a bit to remind you that he is the one enabling you a semi-good life. Or the complete opposite happens and he ends up dragging you forcefully into bed with him out of bitterness and hidden longing. He's at least pleasant enough with no real sleeping habits that could annoy you. The only thing he is embarrassed about is the fact that he always ends up wrapping and arm around you and tugging you a bit closer in his sleep.

Haise Sasaki

🔳 Haise, in a state of shock that he resorted to such a drastic measurement, is more lenient out of guilt for his darling and the freedom he deprived you of. He's understanding and it's fairly easy to negotiate with the man which gives his darling a bit of an easier time with him even if something inside of him is still too paranoid to let his s/o leave again. He tidies up a different room for his darling since he knows that they don't want to sleep with him in the same bed and he doesn't want to force them either. Haise tries to make everything as comfortable for you as he can and if you can't sleep well on the tatami matt, he even switches rooms with you so that you get the bed and he sleeps in the other room. He just wants to make the new life for you as good as he can within the limits of abduction.

🔳 The Kaneki inside of him sometimes shines through as he wakes up weeping from haunting nightmares although he is more in control and doesn't wake you up by slamming the door to your room open. Risks are that you wake up from the crying and the whimpers anyways. The male is fairly patient and can wait until his darling is comfortable enough sleeping with him. His work often forces him to stay up longer, otherwise he tries to go to bed when you want to go to sleep. Haise is more clingy in bed too, epecially once he has fallen asleep and cuddles himself really close to you. Worst thing about him are his nightmares though and the more audible reactions he gives such as his cries and whimpers. Whilst he isn't as loud as Kaneki, it might be still enough to wake you up even if you help to decrease the nightmares he tends to have. Sleep talking happens here and there too and never fails to disturb you since the things you hear don't sound like something Haise would say.

Jabami Yumeko

♠️ Isn't a life with her darling just wonderful? Yumeko tends to blissfully ignore the fact that you aren't living with her willingly, she had her hand in a few gambling accidents which led to the current demise you find yourself in. Worst is that you know for sure that Yumeko doesn't feel even guilty for it, she's just happy to have you. Yumeko is eerily jovial and chipper around you and very touchy and affectionate. She's clingy and most of the time she takes you everywhere she goes even if it is just to quench her insatiable addiction for gambling again, something she still encourages you to do for the fun and thrill of it. Her facial expression freezes when you tell her firmly that you don't want to sleep with her but whilst she is upset about it, she hides that well under her facade.

♠️ Yumeko might be willing to give you for a certain time a separate room where you can sleep without her. It is only for a limited time though since she believes that giving you a certain period of time to adjust might just do the trick. If you still refuse, she's going to solve the problem with the classic Kakegurui solution. So she ends up wanting to gamble with you. If you win, she'll leave you alone for a month or two more but if she wins, you'll have to share a bed with her. The Jabami girl doesn't give much room for you to protest so you find yourself gambling with her. With the loss comes the discovery of Yumeko's sleeping habits. Next to her extreme clinginess in which she holds onto you tightly and presses herself very tightly against your body, she also sometimes sighs or mumbles incoherent words in her sleep. The only good thing seems to be that Yumeko is a heavy sleeper so she doesn't wake up if you move much.

Momobami Ririka

🎭 Her innocent facade aside, Ririka is more cunning and manipulative than she lets on at first. Whilst she is shy, she won't hesitate to use her skills to remove threats and maybe also to force her darling to stay with her. It might be likely that she's just a bit scared that you might meet otherwise a terrible fate in Hyakkaou Private Academy. If you end up with her without your consent, Ririka feels quite guilty though and leaves you with a lot of freedom since this isn't even an abduction in the classic sense but something more complicated. One of those freedoms is having your own room with your own bed since the Momobami sister won't force you to sleep together in the same bed as her. She's also somewhat bashful, blushes when she thinks about being in the same bed as you.

🎭 Ririka is way too shy to even ask you the question if you would ever be willing to sleep in one bed with her and is additionally afraid of a cold rejection from your side. So she just waits until her darling is willing to make the first move and ask her eventually. She's going to be highly flustered at first but will also be happy since you asking her such a question means that you finally stopped disliking her. Ririka will continue being shy for a while, especially during the first week where you two sleep in one bed. Her hands are sweaty and you might even hear her faster heartbeat through her chest. Ririka grows clingy during her sleep so in the morning you usually wake up with her pressing herself against you. You swear you also hear her sometimes murmuring and sighing softly in her sleep but it is so quiet that you aren't sure if you're just hearing things or not. Overall Ririka is pleasant and silent at night though.

Dazai Osamu

🤎 Dazai is going to resort to more drastic measurements when it's needed, will be more devilish and cunning. You don't have to be so upset, he isn't happy either that he has to do such horrible things but if you're a sweetheart and listen, he'll promise that he'll be nicer to you. His darling finds themselves being forced to do things as he wants them to do and if they don't, Dazai punishes them and reveals his more sadistic side. He has no problems forcing his affection on his s/o either and he'll teach them to love him just as passionately. So his darling finds themselves soon tied up in bed next to Dazai. You should be nice or else he might throw you out and lock you somewhere else where you won't have the privilege of a pillow, a mattress and the freedom to use a bathroom at night.

🤎Dazai is stubborn too so as soon as you two live under the same roof, he doesn't go to bed unless you do since he wants you in his arms. Considering his job, it isn't unlikely for Dazai to come back later at night and sometimes he doesn't even bother to be silent, he just likes annoying you here and there a bit. He loves cuddling and uses his darling like a teddy bear so Dazai is extremely clingy at night. You always have a warm body latched onto you which is good or bad depending on the season. He's definitely a light sleeper so the next problem is that the moment you wake up and move even a bit, Dazai is quick to wake up from his slumber too which means that you don't even get to have some time for you alone. On some nights he is even awake for hours too although he's at least silent then. He snores lightly but you can ignore that normally and fall asleep. The worst normally happens when you wake up and realize that Dazai has moved in his sleep, sometimes with half of his body on top of you.

Sakunosuke Oda

🖋️ Considering Odasaku and his tame behavior for a Yandere, it takes something more extreme for Odasaku to go as far as taking your freedom away by kidnapping you and he'll feel guilty for that for the rest of his life. He tries to do his best to give you enough space after since he knows that you'll need it, thinks it's best if he doesn't show his face around you too often. You have all the reasons to hate him after all and whilst the thought hurts him, he never gets angry at you if your temper flares up when you see him. Giving you space also means giving you your own room where you can sleep and have some sense of privacy. He never considers forcing you to share a bed with him since it's just gross in his opinion. He's already done enough damage to you, he shouldn't violate your privacy anymore.

🖋️There is some longing to have you at night next to him since Odasaku is just a human too, feels lonely and sad whilst reminiscing about how the relationship between you two used to be in the past. Before he ruined it that is, it's all his fault. He pushes this longing away as good as he can though but sometimes catches himself pausing in front of the door to your room, a sudden urge to check shortly on you before he snaps out of it and forces himself to walk away. He's never going to mention it to you unless you start talking to him about it which flusters him a bit. He sort of thought you'd never want to have anything to do with him and he considers that it might be Stockholm syndrome talking out of you but he has a difficult time controlling his heart when you start being more sweet and affectionate to him again. Besides occasional light snoring and the protective arm he always wraps around you there is nothing much going on when he's asleep.

982 notes · View notes